


A Million Pieces

by sesiran (Ayri)



Series: Broken [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abused Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Abusive Relationships, Aftercare, Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Human, Anger, Angst, Angst with an okay ending, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is Feral, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders-centric, Arguing, BAMF Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Begging, Blood, Burns, Crimes & Criminals, Death, Depression, Derogatory Language, Dissociation, Electricity, Electrocution, Explicit Language, Fighting, Food, Ghosts, Gore, Guns, Hallucinations, Haunting, Hurt Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Sex, Knives, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Minor Character Death, Murder, Not Safe Sane and Consensual, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Panic Attacks, Poltergeists, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sleep | Remy Sanders is a Little Shit, Stabbing, Tags Contain Spoilers, Threats, Threats of Violence, Torture, Trouble breathing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 55,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26789686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayri/pseuds/sesiran
Summary: What if Virgil wasn't feeling so...charitablein chapter eleven ofBreak?
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Series: Broken [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760686
Comments: 23
Kudos: 34





	A Million Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate ending for [Break](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24087271) starting from [chapter 11](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24087271/chapters/57980650). also known as:  
>  where Virgil gives into the urge for some payback that got out of hand with ghost lore **you’re welcome**  
>  - _or_ -  
>  you want angst, here’s some angst don’t say I didn’t warn you. 
> 
> Read Break 1-10 and come back or just know that’s the chapters that are relevant up until the alternate ending. If you don’t want to do any re-reading, jump to the first ☠ to pick up where it diverges. 
> 
> There's no explicit sexual activities in this one, it is rated Explicit for bloody gory violence. They do discuss/reference sex. While the 'canon' ending is still in the original storyline (and this will be ignored for part II, Rebuild), the things about the characters (backstory, jobs, etc) are 'canon' to this universe, so if you're interested in the characters there's more info in here on them.
> 
> **♪[Break Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/17jdndRy9Q7F6COOvHieTM?si=o6VI7pQ3TbOsZKRADvGNQw) ♪**

“Zi, _why_?” Virgil screeched and gripped the bars in his cage, pressed tightly against himself confined in the small space. “Please!” He cried out desperately.

“Pet, I told you, you missed feeding me _three_ meals. I would have let breakfast slide, but lunch _and_ dinner? You have to be punished for such flagrant disregard for my needs,” Zi explained coolly while Virgil whimpered and tried to pull apart the cage. “And where are your manners? You’re getting another hour added,” Zi spat with disdain.

“No! No! Master, please! No! I don’t know why my phone didn’t go off! _Please_! I’ll make it up to you! Anything, please!” Virgil cried. “Please let me out!” He screamed.

“Pet, if you don’t stop shrieking I’ll make it longer,” Zi said angrily, tapping his fingers on his legs as he loomed over the small cage Virgil was locked in.

“No! Please!” Virgil screamed again. “Please! Let me out! Master!” He sobbed loudly. “I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe!”

“You can breathe just fine based on all the awful screeching noises,” Zi kicked Virgil’s cage and he cried out again. “You’re giving me a headache,” Zi rubbed his head and left the room.

“No! Don’t leave! Let me _out_! Master! Zi! Anything! Please! Oh god, please!” Virgil cried out, desperately shaking the cage walls. Virgil curled in on himself and sobbed despairingly, naked and filthy and freezing cold. “Please,” He muttered into himself, perfectly aware Zi wasn’t listening.

This was wrong. Everything about this was _wrong_. Everything about his _life_ was wrong. Maybe Virgil was wrong, too, but he couldn’t take being in here to think straight enough to consider it. Virgil panicked and gasped for air while he clawed as himself in desperation, trying hard to push the cage to its limits and break free. It didn’t budge but Virgil couldn’t stop trying to attack it; he was compelled like he was possessed to thrash against his confinement. His body wouldn’t listen to him as he struggled fruitlessly against the bars, even though he fought to quiet down to reduce his punishment.

He went back to attacking himself after a while, yanking at his hair and clawing at anything in reach, unable to stop himself from lashing out in fear. Pained screams broke loose sometimes, but he had long since stopped calling out for Zi. Instead, he babbled to himself and counted out of order and even started hallucinating because there were flashing colors and it somehow smelled like pancakes. Virgil wanted pancakes so badly. He was starving. But every time his mind wandered, or he drifted, he always realized he was caged tight again and panicked all over again.

Hot blood ran down from the ‘x’ on his heart when he reopened the wound while thrashing, and it splattered on the tile floor beneath him and made him slip around. His nails bled from desperately trying to pry at the door hinge to break it open. He screamed in frustration when another attempt failed, and he went back to flailing violently in the cage.

“Slave,” Zi hissed, walking back up to the cage holding a giant gag ball in tightly clenched fists. “I _tried_ to give you a chance to quiet down on your own and accept your punishment, but you’re staying in here gagged all night now. We have to start obedience training all over, it seems,” Zi said evilly, and it felt like white-hot electricity fired through Virgil as something deep and dark in him snapped. Virgil could hear it break stridently in his head, like it was the only thing in the world. He trained his eyes on Zillah and waited.

He froze and stared unblinking while Zillah pulled out the key to open the door and squatted down to open it. It felt like time was going slow as he waited for the industrial padlock to be shifted off and he crashed through the door and pounced into Zillah; the cage ramming with a loud crash in the wall while Virgil started wailing on Zillah’s face, screaming the entire way through.

Virgil didn’t know what was his blood or Zillah’s anymore as he leaked blood on to Zillah while he pounded his face into a bloody pulp. Zillah tried to grab him back a few times, but slipping on the blood gave him a few false starts. Virgil used his knees to pin down Zillah’s elbows and leaned back, slipping the knife out of the front pocket. Zillah’s legs trashed, and he tried to throw Virgil off while Virgil licked the blade and smiled maliciously down at Zillah.

“You better stop fighting, _bitch_ , or this is about to get really fuckin’ ugly for you,” Virgil hissed.

“Slave, get the _fuck_ off of me!” Zillah shouted back, shooting Virgil the worst death glare he had ever produced. But Virgil wasn’t afraid of Zillah anymore. Virgil was broken, and he embraced it.

“No, no, that’s not how this is _playing out_ ,” Virgil spun the knife in his hand. He pointed it at himself. “You broke _me_ ,” He slowly pointed the knife’s tip down to Zillah. “I break _you_.”

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ , you piece of shit!” Zillah spat and Virgil gleefully stabbed into Zillah’s shoulder. Zillah screamed out in pain when the knife pierced his skin.

“Lessee, you carved your initials on me here, so I think it’s fair play if I carve something, too,” Virgil cooed while Zillah screamed out as Virgil slowly twisted the knife. “What do I carve? My initials aren’t _worthy_ of you, master,” Virgil spat sardonically. “I never fucking _was_ , right? No matter how much I _loved_ you?” Virgil twisted the knife in a fast jerk, and Zillah screamed out again. “You fucking _ruined_ me you rat bastard son of a bitch,” Virgil pushed the knife in further and punched Zillah across his face again as he cried out.

“You took _everything_ from me! My interests! My hobbies! My freedom! My time! My love! My friends! My family! My independence! My fucking job! If they hired me full time like they were talking about, I would have gotten 60K you _rotten son of a bitch_!” Virgil screamed at him and wailed on his face. “But that wasn’t _enough_! You needed my fucking _dignity_ too! You needed to show me off like some fucking trophy to half the fucking town! And then!” Virgil cackled maniacally as he pulled the knife down and Zillah shrieked out in pain.

”You used my fucking lifeless body like a god damn fleshlight! And I only know because you left me like this for _hours_! And _then_!” Virgil screamed at him, then cackled again and locked eyes with Zillah as he pushed the knife upward, met with another screech. “You punished me for some stupid piece of shit reason like you didn’t want to make your own fucking food. What are you, fucking _twelve_? You can’t make a goddamn _sandwich_?” Virgil berated him and yanked the knife out quickly. He ran it across his tongue and sliced it open, then spit their intermingled blood in his face. “ _You_ made me this way, you fucking _sub-human garbage_! This is _your_ fucking fault! What do you have to say for yourself?” Virgil snarled accusingly and looking pointedly into Zillah’s eyes.

“You’re a fucking _psycho_!” Zi screamed back at him and tried to escape once more. But there was no escape for Zillah, just like there was no escape for Virgil.

“Who’s _fault_ is that, _master_?” Virgil drawled sardonically, smirked devilishly, and jammed the knife down in the other arm. He screamed out again and kept thrashing his legs, but Virgil continued pressing with all his fury against him. “You break your fucking toys so much they’re broken permanently, and it’s _my_ fault?” Virgil screeched. “You don’t even have an excuse for taking our lives away from us! We were _happy_! We were so happy! I fucking loved you! I _still_ do! And you took it all away because you’re a selfish _man-child_ who can’t get over his _own fucking ego_!” Virgil watched the tears run down Zillah’s face with a broken laugh, twisting the knife again. Virgil’s own tears ran against the open x-wound over his heart, and the salt stung the wound. Virgil looked down at it and looked to Zillah, a sick smile spreading over his face.

“You _wouldn’t_ ,” Zillah growled warningly.

“Oh, like _you_ know what I _would_ and _wouldn’t_ do! Did you even fucking love me!? _Ever_? Or was I just a _game_ to you!? A shiny toy to break and throw aside?” Virgil spat the welling blood in his mouth in Zillah’s face again. It ran down Zillah’s harsh and beaten face to the floor.

“You were never _worth_ loving,” Zillah hissed through his pain as Virgil dug the knife in deeper.

“Oh, looks like some _little bitch_ is pretty good at taking pain, too! Who could have known you could take it as well as dishing it out? You want to see how far it is until you break, baby boy?” Virgil smirked and the defiance on Zillah’s face melted into terror.

“No,” Zillah finally creaked after a moment.

“Aw, babe, so _cute_ , your first whimper,” Virgil cooed and pet his face before slapping it hard. “Count with me, baby, and I’ll give you a reward!” Virgil cackled and started carving a ‘w’ into Zillah’s arm. He screamed out again. “Oh, pet, that’s not a _number_ ,” Virgil laughed. “Good thing there was _never_ a reward! Just like our _entire_ relationship!” Virgil screamed with laughter. “ _Newsflash_! I didn’t care if you gave me permission to come, I just wanted to be treated like a _human being_!” Virgil snarled as he carved an ‘o’. Zillah sobbed in pain. “Nuh-uh, baby, it’s not _aaa_ , it’s _ooo_! Next is ‘r’!” Virgil carved the next letter while Zillah cried out.

“What the fuck is _wrong_ with you?” Zillah spat and thrashed under him again. Virgil backhanded him across the face to get him to settle down.

“Nothing that isn’t wrong with _you_ , dearest. I haven’t done a single thing to you that you haven’t done to me,” Virgil cooed and bent down to give him a bloody kiss. “I can see it in your eyes, baby, you’re afraid of me, but I’m just _emulating_ you! And aren’t you a _good guy_? Worthy of love? Adulated by his peers?” Virgil asked softly and carved a ‘t’.

“I’m calling the cops!” Zillah screamed.

“Oh, _honey_ , if the cops were going to come they would have ages ago. I guess you soundproofed your house too well against my screams,” Virgil purred. “What a good boy. I know it’s coming soon. I already see you shutting down. I know it so well. Like the back of my hand,” Virgil kissed his hand and then backhanded Zillah. “Just _accept_ it, it makes it easier. That’s what you’ve always taught me,” Virgil smiled and backhanded Zillah again. “I’m getting woozy from blood loss, too, maybe I should just end it and kill us here on the living room floor,” Virgil said absentmindedly tapping the knife on his lips, lazily letting some blood run out of his mouth.

“Y-you m-monster,” Zillah stuttered out.

“Aw, a stutter? Baby, we’ll have to train that out of you,” Virgil smiled and carved an ‘h’. “It’s for your _own good_ , you see,”

“F-fuck you!” Zillah growled weakly.

“Oop! _Another_ stutter!” Virgil carved an ‘i’. “I didn’t even have to force you to stutter to punish you for it! Aren’t you a good little boy! Remember, don’t come! You’ll get the cage!” Virgil sang and moved on to carve another ‘t’. Zillah stopped fighting under him and Virgil watched his eyes glassed over. “Aw, babe. We _did_ it. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, but ain’t it _fun_ getting there?” Virgil slashed his wrist and smiled. “Now every time you look down you can ask yourself if it was worth it, just like my ass is stuck seeing your stupid initials and all your other fun messages. Like ‘slut’ and ‘bitch’ and ‘unlovable’, don’t think I didn’t miss that one just because it was on the back of my leg,” Virgil slid off of Zillah’s elbows and sat back on his chest.

“It’s been real, babe, but I guess I got to decide if we live or die now,” Virgil mused. “I was never good at decisions. Actually, I _was_. But I guess you took that away from me, too. You want to decide?” Virgil absentmindedly slashed at his other wrist and spun the knife. Virgil stared into Zillah’s eyes, and they trembled in fear.

“Live,” Zillah said blankly. ☠

“I don’t know, _pet_ ,” Virgil’s tone dripped with malice. “Is that really what you _deserve_ , though?” Virgil mused darkly, playing with the knife in his hands.

“ _Please_ ,” Zillah croaked out, sounding far away. And it was so satisfying it was almost orgasmic.

“Oh, please punish you like you _deserve_? Of course, baby,” Virgil grinned darkly. Zillah just whimpered in return. “You know what bad boys like you get?” Virgil asked. A brief look of recognition flashed in Zillah’s eyes, but he just stared unseeingly ahead without further reaction. Virgil knew that look so well, just by the feeling alone. And finally getting to share it with his love was a wonderful event. “You’re right! You know _nothing_ , so you said _nothing_ ,” Virgil laughed evilly. He climbed off of Zillah, but Zillah laid there limply, unmoving. “You know what’s fun? There’s a flogger I always wanted to try,” Virgil mused, rubbing his chin. He reached down and grabbed Zillah’s arm to drag him to the bedroom. Blood from Virgil’s arm ran down his arm and the room spun for a second.

He dropped Zillah in the hallway and went to the fridge to grab the orange juice. He drank an absurd amount thirstily, pouring it directly down his throat, but the acid still burned the open cut on his tongue. He walked back into the hall with the carton. He was so hungry the juice burned violently in his roiling stomach acid, but he would not pass out before he got his vengeance.

“Open your mouth and drink and I’ll be nice,” Virgil said impishly and Zillah complied. Virgil squatted down and dumped some orange juice in Zillah’s mouth. Zillah sputtered a little but drank the orange juice. “I don’t want you passing out on me, now,” Virgil cooed and tossed the empty container behind him and continued to drag Zillah to the bedroom.

Virgil draped Zillah over the bed, not bothering to restrain him. Part of him wanted Zillah to run. Like Zillah had never given him the chance to. But part of him also just wanted to see how far he could push Zillah before he stopped complying or blacked out. His sense felt so far away that Virgil was just whims fighting one another. Virgil ran Zillah’s knife lightly down Zillah’s spine before grasping the shirt and using the knife to slice it open.

“I need an empty canvas, after all,” Virgil whispered into Zillah’s ear as he cut through the collar. Virgil yanked out the bin next to Zillah’s legs and pulled out the flogger he’d been interested in before. It really hurt to get hit with. It had rubber strands with rubber beads along the tendrils. But it flopped with interesting motions and artful swishes just extracting it from the box of tools used to torture Virgil. Virgil lazily kicked the bin back under the bed and flipped the tendrils around in a circle, gearing up. “I’m going to hit you and I need you to rate the pain each time. Don’t worry baby, I’ll start low,” Virgil gripped Zillah’s hair and hissed into his ear. Virgil stretched out his shoulder and primed himself to hit Zillah hard. The rubber tendrils lashed his skin and left angry red welts right away. Zillah’s entire body flinched. “One to ten, pet,”

“Eight,” Zillah croaked weakly.

“Whoops, too hard,” Virgil teased and hit him lighter this time.

“3. 6. 4. 7. 5. 9. 10. 8. 10. 10,” Zillah responded blankly each time, but his body reacted. Virgil kept hitting him as hard as possible, no longer bothering to hit low. Zillah’s twitching grew wilder and his breath was sharp and ragged. His instincts were kicking back in. Oh, back when Virgil could do that before Zillah beat it out of him. Virgil watched nostalgically for a moment when Zillah bolted from his position over the bed and out of the bedroom after a lash over the same spot for the third time ripped his skin open. Virgil threw the flogger down and bolted after him and tackled him down, and they skid across the tile with the inertia of the running leap Virgil took at him. They rammed into a wall and a glass mirror nearby jumped off the nail and shattered right next to them.

“Oh, same,” Virgil hummed as he watched the shards fly. “Baby, you should know _better_ than this. Did it ever work for me?” Virgil purred sinisterly and slammed Zillah’s head down against the tile. If Virgil didn’t break Zillah’s nose before, it was definitely broken now. Zillah cried out. Maybe the adrenaline finally won out over the shutdown. That was also nostalgic. That meant Virgil had a brief window before Zillah could get the sense to use his unrestrained adrenal strength to win a fight. Virgil gripped at Zillah’s hair and dragged the violently thrashing Zillah to the cage in the living room, Zillah slipping around in the puddle of blood around him, unable to get enough of a stable balance to run away.

Virgil had to fight fiercely to get Zillah in. Zillah’s arms pushed against the cage and Virgil and everything he could. When a hand got too close to Virgil’s face, though, Virgil bit down on Zillah’s hand hard. While Zillah reacted to that Virgil shoved him all the way in the cage. He slammed the door shut and the lock back on quickly. The cage was tight for Virgil, but Zillah pressed against the bars already, barely capable of shifting much. He screamed out with demonic noises as he fought the door desperately, but just as fruitlessly as Virgil did before. It was _beautiful_.

“Are you good? It’s _comfy_ , isn’t it? Really quite _cozy_?” Virgil purred, squatting on the floor and holding his face only a few inches from the cage. Zillah tried to ram his fingers through the bars to claw at Virgil, but they were too tight and he was centimeters away from making contact. Virgil cackled sinisterly. “Oh, darling, it’s _far_ too late for that. Accept your fate,” Virgil smiled toothily, clacking his canines at Zillah teasingly. Zillah continued to push and trash against the cage. The room swam again while he squatted down. He sat back with a wet splat in the blood and played absentmindedly with the knife. His vision was dimming, though, as he watched Zillah struggle against the cage. “Are you… claustrophobic, too, babe?” Virgil slurred slightly, leaning back on one hand to keep his balance.

“Let me _out_!” Zillah screeched.

“You _know_ why you’re in there. Wait… I got this,” Virgil said deliriously. Virgil reached up for his laptop and loaded up the security camera feed for the house. He entered the login information Zillah kept in the little black book in his office and pulled up the feed. He saw himself sitting in a small pool of blood and Zillah thrashing soundlessly on the laptop while the cage rattled violently in real life. “I’m surprised you never installed microphones in the living room. Just… the bedroom, huh?” Virgil rambled slightly. “Where to start? How about last night?” Virgil went to the camera feed starting at midnight. Virgil’s screams from last night came to life tinnily on the laptop speakers. Virgil flipped the laptop in his lap and looked down at it from above while he showed Zillah. “Look, here’s why you’re fucking in there. And this is exhibit triple ‘z’,” Virgil hissed. The Virgil on the laptop screen was being cropped over the whipping damage and the careful bandages were loose and tattered across his back.

“Isn’t it so weird that after a while you stop hearing yourself scream?” Virgil said blithely as the video-Virgil from last night cried out in a panic. “Do you hear yourself scream still? Or is that just me,” Virgil leaned back on his hand holding the knife. Zillah stopped crying out and his gaze caught on the monitor. “Here, how about 3 AM? Were you still raping my corpse then?” Virgil asked curiously, fast-forwarding the footage to that time. Video-Virgil was hanging limply from the bar on the ceiling and Zillah was fucking his face. “Yep, look at that,” Virgil hummed. “Is that candle wax or jizz? I can’t make it out,” Virgil peered closer at his shoulders on the feed. The camera angle wasn’t clear. He tried to zoom in, but it didn’t elucidate much. “Oh, right, _I’m_ that Virgil,” He laughed cynically and his head swam again. He reset the camera zoom and Virgil turned to look at his shoulder and flicked off dried wax. He ran his hand through his hair and hit something crusty. “Both, then. Jesus, dude, how can you come so much in one day? I know eventually you shoot dry, but still,” Virgil grimaced and shook out his hand.

“How about four days ago, huh? When I acknowledged someone walking their dog with a silent nod while I was trimming the bushes and you thought that meant I had to be punished?” Virgil said. He pulled up the date and went to about 10 PM. Virgil was hanging limply from the loops in the bathroom doorway, dripping with blood from tiny pinprick scrapes. “Oof. You know I think vampire gloves aren’t meant to be used with that much pressure and that’s why you broke them, not that I somehow did with my mystic fuck-up aura,” Virgil said, sounding bored.

“Oh look, here comes the crop! Will I come to or am I staying down for the count tonight?” Virgil asked, pretending to be an announcer deliriously. “Oh, a sounding rod, too? You sick fuck,” Virgil watched the events play on screen. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to shove anything in your dick,” Video-Virgil’s screams started up as Video-Zillah started cropping him, one hit right on his dick. Video-Virgil’s cry of pain was broken and animalistic. “Ugh, I can’t believe you get off on this shit,” Virgil groaned. “Guess I woke up! How about you, are you here or gone?” Virgil asked, looking up to Zillah. He looked paralyzed but had a rapt interest in the laptop screen.

“Oh, some part of you is still into watching yourself torture me, huh? How about that time last week? When you carved into me? Just something to remind you of why I carved it,” Virgil said lazily. He pulled up a video of Virgil’s face down on the bed and screaming into a pillow as Zillah carved a message into the back of his leg. “You went deep! I was so dizzy the next day from blood loss. It was my first time carving, myself, so I hope I did you justice,” Virgil exhaled as he fought the dizzy sensation. “Shit, I’m dizzy _now_ ,” Virgil tilted slightly. Something must have clicked in Zillah’s head and he looked between Virgil and the carving on his arm for a moment. Oh, functioning purely on instinct. “Mood,” Virgil grumbled tiredly, the room seeming a little darker than usual. He put the laptop down on the floor, away from the blood but still facing the cage, and held the knife again. The room was starting to spin, and Virgil was too dizzy to see straight.

“Please. Let me out,” Zillah cried weakly.

“You said… overnight,” Virgil drawled darkly. “Only… fair,” He hissed and fell back, blacking out.

—

There was more screaming that brought Virgil to. He reached up and held his pounding head. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Zillah was fighting again, so maybe something set him off. Zillah would probably give up in a few hours, though. Zillah screamed loudly and pressed against the bars, trying to extend any part of his body. Virgil’s head pounded and his vision continued to swim. He worked on focusing back on Zillah’s pointless fighting against that accursed cage.

Things happened really quickly after Virgil regained his sense of balance. The clasps holding together the sides of the cage broke and Zillah burst out, the walls of the metal cage hitting the floor with a strident clanging noise. Zillah dived for his phone on the nearby table as Virgil climbed to his feet to stop him, and Virgil heard the 911 operator as Virgil pounced and tackled Zillah down against the tile with a loud thud. He stabbed Zillah in the hand on instinct, who cried out in pain, and took the phone when his grip slacked from the pain.

“Sorry, wrong number,” Virgil slurred into the phone and hung up, throwing the phone weakly away from them. Zillah watched it fly away with desperation in his eyes. “There is… no saving you,” Virgil said as resolutely as he could while the room span and Zillah squirmed under him, attacking at the parts he could reach with sharp enough nails to cut.

It was time to stop this before Zillah had enough wherewithal to fight back. Zillah was stronger, had eaten, and hadn’t been tortured all night yesterday. He would win in the end if Virgil let this go on. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to torture Zillah into shutting back down. It was his own fault for bringing back his consciousness. He knew he only had the energy to do one thing now. He wished that it never had to come to this, though. It was kill or be killed. The rage that burned in Zillah’s eyes felt like it pierced his soul, but Virgil couldn’t be afraid now. If it was the last thing he’d do, he’d come out of this the victor.

Virgil raised the knife high above his head and Zillah’s eyes widened slowly. He brought the knife down with all the strength in his body straight into Zillah’s heart. It took everything Virgil had to break through, pushing with his last adrenal surge of strength, and Zillah’s scream echoed through the house. Zillah threw Virgil off with a thrash, and Virgil his head so hard on the tile his vision flashed. The knife stuck out of his chest, right in that bastard’s heart. It was appropriate, since it was exactly how Virgil felt. He watched Zillah flail about violently and screaming like a banshee as his vision blurred out.

Zillah whipped out the knife and threw it across the room, and Virgil laughed darkly and the knife sliced through his arm as it passed. That was a stupid mistake. Blood poured out of him and the thrashes moved to twitches which morphed into the last of the energy in his muscles firing before Zillah laid in a limp heap on the floor in a pool of blood. Virgil’s vision faded again as he listened to himself screaming on the laptop nearby. He wondered if he would wake back up this time as he collapsed against the tile floor, bashing his head again against the tile. The last thing he heard was Zillah’s grim laugh and Virgil begging from the laptop speakers as he closed his eyes and lost consciousness.

\- — 🕱 — -

Virgil opened his eyes and sat up. He could hear something distantly and it confused him. It was voices he didn’t know, and they sounded so close to his face even though he couldn’t make out the words like he was behind a wall. Everything looked so weird and foggy and desaturated. Virgil stood up and was surprised how easy it was. He should be really sore. He should be hurting badly and dizzy. He just felt a mild painful buzz. His head should have at least hurt. Virgil looked down at his hands… through to his legs laying flat on the floor. Huh. So ghosts _are_ real. Vindication, maybe?

He blinked harder and tried to look around again. The more he focused, the more the strange fog lifted and the color saturation returned. He backed up above his body’s head and watched two paramedics trying to restart his heart. He was certain that would not do anything, though, considering he was already see-through and all. He could almost feel the electric shock in his chest if he watched hard enough, but it was very distant. There was an electrical pain in his body in general, but it didn’t bother Virgil much. Virgil watched them fruitlessly trying to revive his corpse. His body was disgusting. Buttass naked, covered in blood, and jizz crusted in his fucking hair. He should have taken a shower or something instead of flogging Zi. Not that he was sensible enough to think straight then. Or even that it would have changed anything. Virgil realized he was barely there when he did all that shit. It helped that his thoughts just all seemed so clear now. He’d never thought this clearly in his life.

He must have been still alive enough for the paramedics to try to revive him when they got here. But they were clearly too late. He wondered if it was the cranial trauma or the blood loss or the dehydration and starvation? It didn’t seem like that bad a way to go, whatever it was. But then again, he was in so much pain he could barely process it anyway, so maybe it wasn’t. His mind was just good at persevering after two years of Zillah. He probably didn’t have a good sense of what pain was bad any more.

He walked over to Zillah’s body and sighed, reaching down and trying to take Zillah’s limp hand off the floor. Virgil’s hand passed right through. Why did it have to come to this? End like this. He couldn’t have had a happily ever after with Zillah or anything, but them both being dead was awful. This was all Virgil’s fault. He was crying. But not really. His brain… consciousness… spirit, or whatever, felt like it was crying. Because crying was physical. It felt different. But he knew what it was, somehow.

Virgil collapsed to the ground next to Zillah and cried, though he never felt the heat of the tears or the wetness on his face. The tears fell onto Zillah’s body and disappeared into nothing. Because they weren’t real. Because Virgil wasn’t real. Virgil curled up and continued to bawl around Zillah. He never wanted it to end like this. He never wanted any of this. The world around Virgil faded to gray, and the fog surrounded him again as he tried desperately to hold Zillah and pull him out and apologize or something, anything. Why wasn’t he here? Where was Zillah? If he was dead and he was a ghost, why wasn’t Zillah here?

Zillah’s body shifted and in Virgil’s small field of vision he saw Zillah being zipped into a black bag.

“No!” Virgil shrieked, trying to stop them. “No, stop!” He cried out loudly, and it echoed in the strangely silent house. He had to focus- he had to focus to bring himself forward. The colors and sounds slowly pulled back, and the fog lifted. “Please! Stop!” Virgil cried out, trying to push away the paramedics. Virgil could hear himself screaming out on the laptop on the floor, still playing security footage. Video-Virgil was screaming the same thing with equal desperation and fervor. He wasn’t ready- he wasn’t _ready_! They couldn’t take him yet! The bag zipped up and was left on the floor, and Virgil couldn’t see him any longer. “No!” Virgil screeched in objection with every ounce of his being and the lights in the house fluctuated for a moment. He tried to focus everything he could on just grabbing the zipper and pulling down. He needed to see him. He hadn’t said goodbye yet! He needed to apologize!

The more Virgil focused, the more his vision grew sharper and colors popped out and sounds became crisper and clearer. But he didn’t care about any of that right now. He needed to see Zillah. He needed to see Zi. His Zi. Virgil knew he had to focus. It was the only thing he knew about himself now was that focus was important. He had to be able to do this. He had to. Nothing in the world mattered but pulling down the zipper.

It moved. It moved! Did someone accidentally bump the bag? He didn’t know! He kept trying. He kept fighting and focusing his entire consciousness into his fingertips, just trying to grasp the bag’s zipper pull.

“This phone was recording,” He heard a voice say, so crisp and clear it was almost refreshing. He looked up from the bag and saw an officer with gloves pick up the phone. “It’s been open this whole time,”

“Well, play it. It looks like a murder-suicide, but we could shut this case today with some evidence like a recording. Send the recording off before we get locked out and go to the beginning,” Another officer walked up to the person holding the phone.

“I didn’t fucking kill myself you idiots,” Virgil shouted. He turned to look down at Zillah. “You were recording? You sick fuck. Regretted not putting microphones in the living room, huh?” Virgil tried to punch the bag but his fist flew right through. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that… I did. I didn’t. I don’t know,” Virgil muttered.

“Alright, got it,” The one holding the phone said.

“You have been so good lately, pet. You were such a good boy last night. I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” He heard Zi’s-Zillah’s…. His voice came through the phone speaker.

“Please, Zi, no! Please not the _cage_! I don’t know why my phone didn’t wake me up! _Please_!” Virgil’s voice cried out.

“You didn’t feed me three meals and there is a mess in the bedroom, slave. This is your fault and you deserve to be punished,” Zillah said sharply and Virgil flinched, looking down to Zillah’s corpse on the floor.

“Anything! _Anything_ but the cage! Please, master, for the love of god, _anything_! How about the suit! I hate the suit! Hang me from the ceiling all night! Brand me again! _Please_!” Virgil’s voice begged him. Virgil pulled up his legs and held on to them, dropping his chin to his knees despondently.

“The fact that you’ll take anything over this just means you’ll learn your lesson that much _faster_ , slave,” Zillah snarled and there was a loud clattering. Virgil remembered this. He was being shoved in the cage and fighting it. There was a clang as the cage door close and Zillah slid on the padlock.

“Master! No!” Recording-Virgil shrieked out desperately, followed by a metallic noise against tile.

“Jesus, this Zi guy is a sick bastard,” One of the officers hissed in disgust and Virgil’s screams cried out on the phone.

“I mean, you’ve seen that security footage playing on the laptop, I think that was obvious,” The other one shook their head. Security recording Virgil cried out again as if to punctuate what they were saying. “Hey somebody shut that off. It’s evidence, but I don’t think I can take the screaming any longer. Not while we’re reviewing this shit,” The officer ordered while recording-Virgil kept screaming on the phone.

“Zi, why?” Recording-Virgil screeched and there was a clattering noise. “Please!” He cried out desperately.

“Pet, I told you, you missed feeding me three meals. I would have let breakfast slide, but lunch and dinner? You have to be punished for such flagrant disregard for my needs,” Recording-Zillah said coolly, and he could make out a faint whimpering noise. “And where are your manners? You’re getting another hour added,” Recording-Zillah spat with disdain.

“No! No! Master, _please_! No! I don’t know why my phone didn’t go off! Please! I’ll make it up to you! Anything, please!” Recording-Virgil cried. “Please let me out!” He screamed.

Virgil didn’t want to listen to this anymore. And he wasn’t. He could vaguely make out the sounds of the recording, but only because they were familiar. It was like it was through a closed door again until Virgil let the room fade into nothing as he closed his eyes. Virgil curled up on the floor next to Zillah’s body bag.

“Did you ever love me?” Virgil asked quietly as the fog took over the room again. “I know what you said… but was it really all just you using me? Was every happy moment a lie you made up to make me stay so you could keep… keep abusing me? That’s what it was, right?” Virgil asked rhetorically to the silence. “You… you used to be so sweet and considerate. We went on long walks. You called me beautiful in the sunlight. We went out to eat and talked about everything. You said you liked my insight. We’d lay awake in bed and you’d tell me you loved how I felt in your arms. I always wondered if I was the one who did something wrong. But it was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” Virgil choked on another sob, though he had no reason to. Maybe it was just habit. “You just wanted to make me fall so deeply in love with you that I’d put up with anything. Or maybe you loved me somewhere deep down and you’re just sick and can’t stop yourself,”

“I’ll never know, will I,” Virgil said despondently. He opened his eyes and pulled himself up to stare at the zipper again. He just wanted to say goodbye. He went back to focusing and hoped he didn’t have to listen to the recording earlier. He sat up and reached out for the zipper pull again. “Open, goddamnit,” Virgil hissed, trying to pinch the pull between his fingers. The fog receded and colors returned. And so did the sound. The wretched sounds. Zillah’s screams. Virgil’s cackle that sounded inhuman. He really was broken. Completely broken. He didn’t even know why he was still trying. Closure, maybe, if that existed. Part of him knew Zillah didn’t deserve his love and kind regard. But Virgil still loved him. Desperately. Painfully. If he had a heart, it would be aching. Virgil still felt emotional pain, and even if it was selfish, he wanted to see him one last time to say goodbye.

He tried his best to ignore everything but the zipper, but he still heard his final minutes playing out on the phone as he tried to open the pull. He hated listening to himself like that. Virgil deserved to have his actions shoved in his face, he knew that. But if he could just figure this one thing out, maybe he could figure out eternity and he could have that now that he had literally nothing else, not even a body. The sounds dropped again, blessedly, and Virgil’s vision narrowed to just the pull as he focused.

And it moved. Virgil’s heart would have jumped when he stumbled backward in surprise. He could do this. He could do this. Virgil scrabbled back over the body bag and focused everything in the universe on the zipper pull. It finally caught between his fingers and Virgil yanked it down. It slipped from his fingers when it cleared his face, but Virgil didn’t care. He got what he wanted. He did it. He managed it. He knows how to do it now. Zillah looked so still and empty. Completely lifeless. People always described dead body’s expressions as tranquil, but Virgil didn’t see that. He had no expression. Maybe tranquility in death was another lie people told themselves. Virgil certainly didn’t feel tranquil. He felt sorrow and guilt.

Virgil leaned down and kissed Zillah goodbye. He tried to stroke his face, but his hand just slipped through again. It was going to take some serious practice. But he had no idea ghosts could even do this. Maybe Virgil was a poltergeist. His death could probably be considered gruesome. Virgil didn’t feel a need for chaos or destruction like they were supposed to. Just sadness. Maybe some anger. Mostly sadness. Maybe he wasn’t. Virgil focused and stood up, and the world returned. Someone was still taking photos. Virgil was already bagged. They finally finished listening to that recording and had bagged the phone. Virgil walked into the bedroom. He wasn’t sure they had already been through here, but there was a clear blood trail leading in and out of here. Two people really can produce a lot of blood. Maybe the spread made it look more dramatic than it was.

He glanced over at his dresser and spied his phone. Well, there’s why Virgil didn’t hear it go off. Zillah never put it near him. He was looking for an excuse to punish Virgil, maybe. Virgil focused as hard as he could as he reached out. He had a few false starts, but he managed to push the button and type in the key. Were ghosts supposed to be able to do this? Don’t the screens work on electrical conductivity or something? Did Virgil have a current as a ghost? He’d never heard of this. Virgil had access to his phone until the service was shut off, when he didn’t pay it next month. It took him a long time and a lot of effort to do anything, so he couldn’t exactly use it. Well, he could do something on tumblr.

After much longer than probably necessary and a massive struggle, Virgil managed to post ‘ghosts r real’ to tumblr smugly. Sure, it would look like a shitpost, but at least he could say he was right. A notification popped up on his screen for a text from Remus. Shit. Fuck. He never considered that he could actually say something to someone after he died. He should say something, right? What the hell should he say? After 12 presses and getting locked out from inactivity, he managed to switch to the texting app. This was really hard. He had to not freak out or he couldn’t focus enough to do it.

‘Are u okay? Please tell me ur okay. I’m worried. I can’t say why. Just tell me ur okay.’ Was the series of missed texts from Remus. He struggled to scroll up to see any further. It didn’t matter. He could at least reply. It was getting a little easier to interact with something every time he tried.

‘no. sry,’ Virgil sent back. It took him ages, but he felt like he was finally getting the hang of the _focusing your entire being_ thing to push the buttons. But he was getting exhausted. It didn’t hurt, exactly, like real life exhaustion. It was just harder and harder to focus, and he had an urge to stop focusing. So he did. He let everything go. The world faded to gray, then to black. The silence overwhelmed the sounds of the bustle as they worked in the living room. He wasn’t even thought anymore. He was nothing. Virgil had never been able to stop thinking before. It was nice. So he stopped for a little longer.

— ☠ —

Virgil woke up on the living room floor again and sat up out of his body bag. Virgil pulled back his focus from oblivion and saw that they were wrapping up. He wondered how long he’d been out. Virgil got up and glanced down at Zillah as he passed him. Someone has zipped back up the bag. That was fine. Zillah wasn’t really there, anyway. Neither was Virgil.

He went back into the bedroom and sat on the bed. It didn’t sink with him, but he felt himself sink down as much as he would of if he was alive. Maybe gravity was a habit, too. Virgil’s phone buzzed over on the dresser, so he got up to check it. It was Remus demanding to know what was wrong, but Virgil couldn’t possibly explain like this. He was tired, still. There was no ghost coffee.

Well… was there? He has to have electrical current to use the phone screen. There was a ton of electrical current in the wall socket. It’s not like he had a body to destroy, so he may as well experiment. Virgil walked over to the socket next to the dresser and squatted down, staring at it a moment before shoving his fingers in and pushing his focus into them.

Pain. Explosive pain. Deep, horrific, tremendous pain flew through whatever made up his being and Virgil tumbled back when he withdrew his hand. That… was a thing. But Virgil didn’t feel tired anymore, that’s for sure. Virgil could handle pain. And he didn’t feel that urge to stop focusing anymore. Ghost coffee.

Virgil stood back up and reached out for the phone. He picked it up, even. Just like having a body, except his fingers slid through the dresser to grab it. He opened back up the texting app and saw Remus asking what he meant and if he should call and what was going on. He was weirdly panicked about this. Did he know, somehow? Virgil started typing.

‘sry. u guys were right. zi was bad news. i’ll miss you. thx for caring.’ Virgil typed in response. Should he just out and say it? Would that hurt Remus too much? Who would tell him, though, if not Virgil himself? ‘zillah killed us both’ Virgil sent. ‘well so did i tbh. he started it,’ Virgil sent after a moment of consideration. Virgil phone rang. And he could answer it, but it’s not like he could talk. Could he? Virgil pressed answer.

“Hey. Can you hear me?” Virgil asked, pressing the speaker and putting down the phone.

“Vi?” Remus asked.

“Holy shit, can you hear me?” Virgil asked excitedly.

“Hello?” Remus asked again, sounding unsure.

“Yeah, it’s me, dude!” Virgil nearly shouted back in response.

“Vi, this is creepy. Will you say something?” Remus said after another pause. Son of a bitch. Virgil pressed the end call button.

‘sry. cant talk. dead n all,’ Virgil sent another text.

‘Virge quit fucking with me,’ Remus sent back.

‘i wish i was. we were rite abt ghosts bein real,’ Virgil responded.

‘this isnt fucking funny,’ Remus replied. Virgil sighed and picked up the phone, then headed into the hall. He stood there and shot a photo of people carrying out one of the body bags. Virgil didn’t know which one. He sent it off to Remus. It was better than showing him all the blood, anyway.

‘like I said, sry,’ Virgil sent again and headed back into the bedroom to lay back on the bed. It’s a shame he wasn’t alive to enjoy it, but Virgil laid right in the middle with no fear anymore.

‘This elaborate prank is upsetting Remus. We saw you last night. We wanted to know if you were okay.’ Logan texted. Logan had rarely texted with Virgil in the past. They mostly interacted through Remus. Logan must be pretty upset.

‘sry u saw tht. its not a prank. im dead. zis dead. ghosts hve electric chrge or smthin so i cn tuch th phne,’ Virgil sent to Logan. He normally would be embarrassed to hell that his best friend saw him during that, but Virgil did just kill a man. His shame was really more focused on that.

‘You can’t be serious,’ Logan replied.

‘wht, need to see th crime scne? its grusme dude,’ Virgil sent back, feeling frustrated. No wonder he’d never heard of this. People didn’t believe in ghosts. They believed in cruel pranks, though. Virgil got up again and went back into the hall. Nobody was in there, not even the bodies anymore. Virgil snapped a picture of the blood, the trail, the remains of the cage. He didn’t really want to send them. But it’s where this conversation was going.

He wanted to go lie back in bed again. He didn’t have a body to breathe, so it was bizarre he could still sigh on impulse. How much of the afterlife was habit, he wondered. Could he float or teleport? Virgil laid down and watched a string of curse words come in from Logan on the phone. How does he test that? Virgil just tried closing his eyes and focusing entirely on a location. The living room. Where he died. It seemed obvious to him. He didn’t feel anything, though.

Virgil opened his eyes, and he was standing in the living room in the puddle of blood his body was in. Holy shit, he could teleport! That made his life… afterlife, anyway… much easier. Virgil pulled up his phone and stared right through his hand. He blinked in confusion for a moment when his hand was empty. So. Probably couldn’t teleport with physical matter. Virgil closed his eyes and focused on the bedroom.

He opened them back up, and he was there, standing in front of the dresser again. He had that weird not-tired-but-tired feeling again and just kicked his foot into the wall and focused on that. It was just as blindingly painful the first time as the sharp, hot electrical pain fired through him and the lights flickered. But Virgil didn’t care about pain. He went to go lay back down and picked up the phone that had fallen on the bed. He should probably tell everyone else.

He should definitely give Roman his life insurance information. He was 75% beneficiary and Pat was 25%. He was always afraid of dying and leaving them alone. He’d had the plan since he had the income. It was cheap to maintain at his age and health. He was always worried it would be a car accident or something… not this. At least all the money he paid was worth it. Virgil pulled up his e-mails and looked for a confirmation receipt from his company, then forwarded it to Roman and Pat. He had all the numbers on there without Virgil having to type them. The only thing he sent in the message was ‘i dont need funeral keep money’. He really didn’t. What was the point of a funeral, anyway? Virgil was a murderer. He didn’t deserve people crying for him for exorbitant amounts of money. Roman could afford to buy a new and less shitty lemon for that kind of money.

Virgil sat and stared at the screen with Roman’s texts. The last text about how Virgil was fine. It was ironic. He didn’t know what to say to his brother. What do you say to your brother when you’re dead? There’s no guide book about this. There’s no guidebook to _any_ of this. Are ghosts super rare or something? Why does Virgil get to be a ghost? Or is this a punishment? It’s probably a punishment. Virgil life was full of punishments. Of course his death would be, too.

‘sry abt a call ur gnna gt soon. dont let thm tell u it ws suicide. zi klld me. u may hve to id me. sry abt tht 2. pls bleve me tht I nevr wntd any o this. i wish i movd in w/ u instd. i thot abt it alot. sry,’ Virgil ended up rambling out a ton of texts. It took a lot of energy, but he kept sending text after text. There was so much to say. His focus wavered, and the phone dropped from his hands as things went to black again.

— ☠ —

Roman’s sobbing was the first thing he heard when he came to. Why was Roman in Zillah’s house? Virgil sat up and focused to look around. Oh. He wasn’t _in_ Zillah’s house. Virgil was lying on a metal table and Roman was bawling into Remy’s shoulder. Virgil immediately got up to try to hug him, but his arms went through. Virgil groaned in frustration and just leaned against Roman and held his arms out like he was hugging him. Roman shuddered with a wracking sob.

“I’m so sorry, Ro,” Virgil whispered. Virgil looked to Remy, who also had tear tracks coming from behind his mirrored sunglasses, but he was standing firm for Roman. Virgil turned to look at himself on the table. He was glad they cleaned him up first. Especially the jizz in his hair. He didn’t want Roman to see him like that. It was bad enough he saw him at all. Some scars peeked up from under the blanket on his shoulders and there was bruising around his neck (really Zi?), but all the rest of his damage was blessedly covered, too.

“Can… Listen. I know you warned us. But. Show me,” Remy said, sounding absolutely pissed. What was he talking about? Remy held Roman’s head in place and the person with them in the white lab coat flipped down the thin top sheet.

“No!” Virgil shot loudly, the bulb above them flickering. “No, please!” Virgil tried to pull up the sheet, but he couldn’t get a grip. “Don’t show them!” Virgil’s scars and bruises and the still partially open x-shaped wound over his heart were all out on display. Virgil’s pale corpse looked somehow sickly under the fluorescent lighting.

“Remy, let me go!” Roman shot in frustration and struggled against Remy’s hand.

“No,” Remy held him firmly. “We’re getting him cremated. He doesn’t deserve to be stuck like this,” Remy said firmly.

“Let me see!” Roman said angrily, pushing against Remy’s chest, but Remy wouldn’t let go.

“No. This isn’t the last way you’re seeing him. He would be pissed at me for letting you see,” Remy said firmly and a fresh tear rolled down his cheek.

“You’re damn right I would!” Virgil shouted angrily and the light they were under flickered again. Remy looked around for a moment as he stroked Roman’s back while pinning him to his chest.

“Will you cover him back up? Thanks,” Remy nearly growled as he resolutely held Roman’s head in place as Roman fought against him.

“Yes! Cover it up! Before Roman sees!” Virgil snarled to the guy in the lab coat. He didn’t care if he was dead. He was still protecting his little brother. The guy nodded and covered Virgil’s chest again.

“That sick fuck. If he wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him myself,” Remy hissed quietly. “Come on, babe, let’s finish up here so we can get a gallon of ice cream or three to cry into,” Remy said sourly. “And maybe a watermelon so I can stab something and pretend it’s Zillah,” He added under his breath.

“I… did plenty of that, Rem,” Virgil chuckled weakly. They started headed down the hall and Virgil followed. He didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t want to stay with his body. He wanted to comfort Roman, but he didn’t know how. Virgil thought about Roman’s apartment as he closed his eyes. He found himself in Roman’s living room and flopped down on the floor. There was a soft sobbing on the couch. It was Patton, gripping a giant soft doll and crying into it.

“Pat…” Virgil said weakly. “Shouldn’t you be at the gym or something?” Virgil asked sheepishly, perfectly aware no answer was coming.

Virgil went to go sit next to Patton and put his arm around him. Patton jumped when Virgil made contact and looked around wildly. Patton pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped himself up in it and looked around in confusion. Virgil sat back and stared at the ceiling for a moment. He had no idea everyone felt so strongly about him. All of them are off work. They should be at work. Pat and Remy were like brothers to him, they’d been around so long, but Virgil hadn’t seen either in ages. They barely texted even. But Pat was still bawling into a soft doll and even Remy- two settings are excited and pissed Remy- cried. Though Remy was definitely pissed. How does he help them? Oh.

Virgil thought of Zillah’s bedroom again and closed his eyes. He kicked into the socket again, and the lights in the house flickered while it electrified Virgil with a short shriek of pain. He pulled his foot back and shook his head. He flopped onto the bed and picked back up the phone. He sent Roman everything he could think of. His bank and savings. Those were okay since he didn’t have to pay Zillah this month. His 401K with very little in it that was part of the temp job. His logins for all of it. To text back to get in and collect the photo albums and things if he wanted them. The location of his wallet. Where Zillah’s safe was and the pass code to open it. That one especially would be helpful. That all can help. He also sent a tentative warning that he could probably do it quickly before someone else gets to it and not go into the living room.

He nearly flickered out again, but he got up and took another excruciating hit of electricity. He thought he was managing a little longer each time, though. The bedroom went dark after he pulled away. Whoops. He must have blown the breaker. Didn’t matter, though. Virgil thought of the breaker box. He teleported there to flip it. There was a small arc of electricity from his finger that would have been horrible, but it clicked back into place without setting on fire. He breathed a sigh of relief. He probably shouldn’t do that again. He returned to the bedroom, and the light was back on.

There were more alerts from Logan and Remus that were frustrating. It had been a few days, apparently. He didn’t mean to ghost them. Literally and metaphorically. He must have just blacked out for a long time last time. He didn’t want to do this, but he sent Logan the photos of the living room asking if that looked staged. He offered to let them in if they wanted to see the gore for themselves and loot the bondage gear. Logan agreed, surprisingly. But it sounded like he wanted to come yell at Virgil for upsetting Remus so much. All Virgil could do was listen, so he may as well. He deserved it.

Virgil looked down at himself. He knew he was dead and invisible and all, but he’d rather not be naked if company was coming over. He already had to be naked in front of his brothers, blood or otherwise. Virgil went into the open closet. How does he do this? He can’t wear real clothes. He tried to tug some clothes, but even though he was able to focus now, the most he could do was push them slightly. He could pull down things on metal hangers, though. The clothes still went through his hands, so he must only be able to properly interact with stuff that could carry a current. That made sense, in a weird way. He could still shove things, though. Just not maintain contact.

But how does he get not-naked? He didn’t want to be stuck looking at his scarred up as much as he hated other people seeing it. Virgil’s eyes caught on the new hoodie he got with Remus. He never got a chance to wear it. He remembered how it looked in the dressing room and sighed. He wished he had a chance to. Maybe this was like teleporting. Virgil closed his eyes and just pictured an outfit he wanted to be in. His new hoodie. A ripped up purple tank top. The torn skinny jeans with fishnets under them. His favourite combat boots with the purple laces he had criss-crossed. Virgil opened his eyes slowly and looked down.

“Success!” Virgil cheered and jumped around. Now he didn’t have to look at all the damn marks. He tugged at the spectral-see through hoodie sleeve and it went up and down with his hand. He could interact with it.

Could he imagine anything? Virgil closed his eyes and imagined a cup of his favourite coffee. It floated there in front of him, and Virgil reached out for the see-through version of the chipped mug in the cabinet Virgil liked. He took a sip, but didn’t taste anything. The contents of the cup went down, but it wasn’t real. It also made him feel tired to summon things. He probably shouldn’t try to recharge in the same socket again, though.

Virgil took a horrific blast from the bathroom socket before flopping back on the bed. He couldn’t interact with the blanket to lie under it, but it’s not like he actually felt it, anyway. He tried to summon a blanket and didn’t feel that either. But he could say he was lying under the blankets without permission, and there was a strange satisfaction to that.

Virgil let his awareness slip low for a bit. He didn’t go fully out, but it was a ghost nap. He didn’t want to end up back at his body. But if Logan and Remus were on the way over, he may as well wait for them. His concept of time was already hazy, but he pulled back his awareness every once in a while to listen for them. The 3rd time he pulled back his focus to hear loud pounding and the doorbell going off. He sent them a text to just come in. The cops assuredly broke down the door. Virgil got up from the bed and watched them come in. Logan seemed baffled at the police tape.

“Virge!” Remus called out, sounding pissed. But he paused and covered his nose. “Jesus,” He hissed and pulled his shirt up.

“I warned you about the living room,” Virgil shrugged and leaned against the hall entrance.

“This is… very elaborate,” Logan said suspiciously and came in. He bumped into Logan while he was distractedly looking at all the shattered mirror pieces and pulled up his shirt to cover his nose. “Re… I don’t…” Logan said, sounding like he was starting to panic.

“Mi casa es su casa,” Virgil motioned to the house. “Watch your feet for blood and glass,” He pulled up the phone and took a photo of them, then sent it off. ‘if u wnt to loot aythng be my gest. im fond of the drgn figrns myslf,’ Virgil added along with it. Remus got the notification and looked over to the hall. Virgil waved the phone and Remus turned sheet white.

“Re?” Logan asked, looking down at the phone screen and glancing up to the hallway. Virgil took another photo and sent it to Logan. Logan slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone. He examined the photo and the hall. Virgil spun the phone in his hand and Logan shrieked. “How are you doing this?” Logan cried out.

“I’m dead, genius,” Virgil deadpanned and reached out to flick the hall light switch a few times. “Woo~ spoopy,” Virgil drawled. Virgil picked up Zillah’s keys with a zap and tossed them in the air a few times.

“Holy shit,” Remus whispered. “Virgey what the fuck happened,” Remus’s eyes were completely wide open. Virgil dropped the keys to the floor and started texting.

‘nght aftr flr shw ddnt end. was cagd fr sleepin in. thngs esclted. bth died,’ Virgil sent off in a few texts.

“Is he here?” Remus asked, looking around wildly.

‘no. jst me. duno y.’ Virgil replied.

“What do you mean… didn’t end?” Logan asked, reading over Remus’s shoulder.

‘tortrd more,’ Virgil sent. There was no point in hiding it. He ended up dead because of it. They could see the blood and everything. ‘Feel dmb 4 not relizin b4,’

“Virge, no…” Remus whispered.

“Virgil, please, it’s not your fault for being a victim. Please don’t blame yourself for this,” Logan said softly.

‘no i defntly stbbd him in th hart,’ Virgil sent in response. ‘hes tht big pddl thre’ Virgil pointed with the phone after sending it. Remus and Logan’s eyes both followed the phone line and Logan swallowed.

“We’re… we’re trespassing on a crime scene. You’re not stuck here, are you?” Logan said nervously.

‘Jst the phne. cant tlprt w/ me,’ Virgil replied.

“You can teleport?” Remus said in awe.

‘use lectric chrge to do stf,’ Virgil sent back.

“So you can run out of charge?” Logan asked. Virgil put the phone down and shoved his foot in the wall where he knew there was an electrical socket on the other side. The hall light flickered and the bulb burst as Virgil cried out in pain.

‘bn rechrgin on sckts,’ Virgil picked up the phone to reply. God, that was like snorting battery acid.

“Is there anything you want us to take? Y’know, before someone calls the cops on us? The dragons, maybe?” Remus asked, also sounding very nervous.

‘th drgns n whtvr u wnt,’ Virgil sent and motioned to the house again out of habit. They can’t see him. ‘Hy tk a phto of whre phne is,’ Virgil added. Remus raised his eyebrow and took a photo of the floating phone.

“It’s blurry there, but still can’t see you,” Remus said, looking in awe. Virgil walked over to look at the photo.

‘boo,’ Virgil sent.

“Leaning into the ghost aesthetic?” Remus chuckled weakly. “God, I can’t believe you’re dead still and I’m talking to you as a fucking ghost,” Remus said and held his head.

“We’re… probably in shock or something. Because I am also still… baffled,” Logan said and walked over to the table to take the dragons.

‘Take whtvr u wnt frm the bdrm. its all sanitizd bt sum lethr stf,’ Virgil sent.

“I dunno, that feels… iffy,” Remus said, wavering his hand.

‘may as well get usd proprly,’ Virgil texted them. Remus looked down and raised an eyebrow.

“You can’t interact with stuff that’s not metal, right?” Remus asked curiously.

‘cn psh a bit,’ Virgil replied.

“I’m looking at that dildo and you can’t stop me,” Remus grinned.

‘tke it 4 all I care,’ Virgil responded with another invisible shrug and turned around in the hall to go the bedroom. Remus and Logan followed behind him. Or at least the floating phone, anyway.

“You were completely embarrassed about it last time we talked and you suddenly don’t care?” Remus asked incredulously. Virgil sat on the bed.

‘i klld a mn. i dnt care abt if u kno whts been up my butt anymr. shme mtr ovrload,’ Virgil sent and crawled up to sit cross-legged on the bed to watch them.

“I don’t think I can fault that logic. And I’m not sure you should feel bad about it personally,” Logan said, sounding almost impressed. Remus made a beeline to the drawer and opened up the shoe box right away. The little pervert.

“Logi was thinking about breaking in and bashing in his brains,” Remus said proudly.

‘he stl wld hv bn fukin me prolly. saw him on cam at 3am,’ Virgil replied.

“Do you mean camera? Was he _recording_ it?” Logan asked with disgust as Remus pulled out the dildo reverently.

“It’s art,” Remus hissed in delight. “I’m taking this to display,”

‘its been in my butt weirdo. ye he recrded evythng,’ Virgil sent back, but Remus wasn’t looking at his phone. ‘tns o ppl saw whn th cops came. ws plyn on my comp whn we died. not a fan o tht,’ Virgil sent with a deep sigh. Remus shivered and reached out, his arm passing through Virgil’s torso. ‘i kno u cnt see me bt cm on,’ Virgil scowled at him.

“I just felt something cold!” Remus said, leaning forward into Virgil’s face. “Was that you?”

‘mybe? idk,’ Virgil responded and scooted back, unnerved by Remus right in his face.

“Did you get everything you wanted, Remus?” Logan asked, sounding concerned. “We’re on a time limit,” Logan said impatiently. Remus put the dildo back in the box and stole the metal butt plugs along with the box. Nice. All that together was like six hundred bucks. It had been ages since he had the chance to use them, so hopefully Remus could have an enjoyable time. Virgil actually got to enjoy those back when things with Zi were nice. He didn’t get tortured with them, which in retrospect is probably why they didn’t use them much. Other than the fact that Zillah generally would rather be balls deep in Virgil than anything else.

“Yup! Everything else? That’s just a little weird. Sharing pleasure with Virge is one thing, but it’s ooky to take something used to torture him…” Remus replied with a little shiver.

‘vlid,’ Virgil sent. ‘bye, i gues?’ He added, not sure what was going on, but it seemed like Logan was trying to get out of here before the cops were called or something, which was reasonable.

“What? No, you’re coming with us. You want to stay here?” Remus said incredulously.

‘o,’ Virgil was kind of surprised. ‘will u cary my phne n chrgr?’ Virgil asked.

“Of course,” Logan said and held out his hand near the phone. Virgil put the phone in his hand. Remus reached down beside the bedside table to grab Virgil’s charger out of the wall.

Virgil painfully topped off on electric power before they headed out the front door. They exited the house quickly after that. He was happy they saved the little dragons. They were his only company for a bit. He had gotten attached. He hoped to come back with Roman to loot the other stuff. But he probably needed time today and should let him be for now. It was maybe too much to hope for, but it would be nice to make sure his things went to the right people. He never had the money for a lawyer to make a proper will to make sure family things went back to his family. They entered the car nonchalantly and drove off. Virgil was surprised that when he sat in the back seat, he moved along with the car instead of it driving off without him. Physics was certainly different for him, that’s for sure. Logan drove them back to his apartment.

“We should get one of those ghost box things so you can talk to us,” Remus said brightly. “I mean, that would be cool, anyway,”

“Yes, I struggle with understanding your strange shortened language in texts. I understand that you have limited energy resources, but I’m sure you would also prefer to talk,” Logan said plainly.

“No kidding,” Virgil huffed and leaned back in the car seat. Logan still had his phone, so he couldn’t actually respond. He leaned forward, changed the radio to pop country music to best express his sarcasm.

“Remus, you know I hate this drivel,” Logan huffed and pressed a preset button to change it back to the rap station.

“I think that was Virgey,” Remus chuckled weakly. “I… I’m really sorry that happened, buddy,” Virgil changed it to classical in hopes the world’s tiniest violin was implied. “I have no idea what that means, sorry,” Remus said. Virgil sighed and rolled his eyes. “Is it… are you okay?” Remus asked quietly. Virgil changed it to Rock and turned it up loud.

“I think Virgil is saying he doesn’t want to talk about it,” Logan said and turned the radio back down.

“Yes, thank you,” Virgil huffed.

“Remus, please look up how to convert a radio into a ghost box for me. I believe I have the parts at home,” Logan requested of Remus. He pulled out his phone and started googling.

“Huh, you knew about ghost boxes? I didn’t take you for a believer,” Virgil laid back in the backseat and tapped his foot to the window. Not that Virgil could feel anything, but everything felt weird.

“I assume the wound is still fresh, so to speak, and that is why he doesn’t want to talk about it. Perhaps he is also still in a form of shock himself,” Logan suggested. Virgil had no clue. This was all incredibly weird. It felt like just yesterday he was happily making out on the couch with Zillah. Not dead for days after being tortured until he lost his mind enough to unintentionally kill him in a delirium and die himself from all the shit Zillah put him through.

Virgil couldn’t question anymore that if he didn’t kill Zillah that he would have killed Virgil for everything he did. Being dead was strange like that. He had so much clarity and gut feelings. Maybe there was a world where they both lived, though. But he was glad he was dead at this point. Zillah or anything else couldn’t hurt him anymore. He was afraid for others, but no longer himself. There was something so relieving to no longer be afraid of things hurting you. Especially after Virgil’s life.

“Shit, what are we going to tell Janus?” Remus said suddenly.

“Who the fuck is Janus? That Roman god?” Virgil leaned up on the seat and asked. No response. Right. Virgil huffed and crossed his arms, leaning back on the car door.

“The truth, I suppose. That Virgil died and we no longer need his help to try to extract him from the situation,” Logan said plainly, though he didn’t seem very satisfied with his own answer.

“He’s going to be completely crushed, though,” Remus muttered. Virgil turned up the radio again in annoyance.

“Oh, right. Virgil isn’t aware,” Logan said, turning the radio down. “Janus was also at The Stockade that night. He helped you after the scene and wanted to help get you out of harm’s way,” Logan clarified. Virgil tried to think about that night. The memories are hazy at first, but he realized he could remember all of it instead of small parts now. The more he focused on them, the clearer things got and the more the car faded, even though he tried to fight it. Virgil watched himself sobbing on a couch while a well-dressed man treated the cuts on Virgil’s back. He was actually there in the memory, somehow. Virgil walked closer and examined them.

If this handsome guy in a suit was Janus, then he was kind of flattered he was even interested in helping him in the first place. He sort of had this air of ‘better things to do’ around him, but here he was carefully cleaning and bandaging cuts while consoling Virgil, who was an absolutely delirious blubbering mess. There was a really strange disconnect to be able to watch your memories from the outside, even if it all felt like he was still there. Virgil pulled himself out of the memory to return to reality or whatever it was. It was a bit of a struggle, but he managed it. However, he was floating midair while lying down in the middle of a street, now. Whoops. He must return to where he left from. Had he ever been to Logan’s apartment? He didn’t think so. How the fuck was he supposed to get there?

Virgil closed his eyes and instead of focusing on a place, he just focused on Remus and his weird energy. He opened his eyes tentatively and appeared behind Remus as they headed up a concrete staircase at an apartment complex. He exhaled in relief that it worked and followed them upstairs. Virgil walked right in while Logan was trying to get his keys out.

Logan’s place was well organized and very clean, as anticipated. There were a few things out of place, and it looked lived in, but that was probably Remus’s presence. Remus’s apartment is a god damned wreck. It would likely be an _event_ if they moved in together. Remus seemed to spend plenty of time here, though. There were little signs of him everywhere. The couch was small, and the apartment was more cozy than spacious. There was a small dining table behind the couch and a little galley kitchen. It looked like Remus was doing that crystal experiment on the pass-through counter. Did they just do kid’s science experiments together? Because that’s kind of cute.

“Nice place,” Virgil said as Logan and Remus came in.

“I feel like being productive will be the best way for me to deal with these emotions for the time being. Did you e-mail me those instructions?” Logan asked and started gathering things out of a chest of items in front of a bookshelf. Virgil walked over to look. It looked like a box of electronics and parts. Logan extracted an old battery powered radio and took it to the kitchen table.

“Yeah,” Remus said despondently and flopped on the couch. “Come sit with me, V? I know you don’t want to talk about it and all,” Remus whispered. Virgil came and sat down. Remus felt it last time Virgil sighed, so Virgil tried blowing on his cheek to let him know where he was. He wrapped an arm around Remus, who shivered when Virgil touched him. “Thanks,” He sighed. Virgil looked to Logan at the table who had already gotten the back off of the radio off and his soldering iron out. He worked fast. He was an engineer, so maybe Virgil shouldn’t be surprised. Holding his arm up as if he was actually touching Remus was kind of odd, but it only seemed appropriate. Remus seemed to want consolation, anyway.

“Being dead isn’t all that bad,” Virgil said quietly. He knew Remus couldn’t hear, but he hoped maybe some part of him would. He kind of wished he could rub Remus’s back consolingly or something. The best he could do is mess with his bangs, probably. Remus leaned back and put his arm around the couch, right through Virgil’s face. Ugh, that felt weird. But it was probably as close to hugging back as Remus could do, and Virgil couldn’t blame him for trying. He tried to pat Remus on the leg affectionately, but that didn’t work.

“All right, Virgil. It’s ready. I’m going to turn it on,” Logan said, clicking in some batteries. He closed the battery cover and flipped a switch on the top and it started scanning radio stations non-stop.

“Testing?” Virgil said from the couch, with no response. “Hello?” Virgil said and there was still nothing but static and garbled station words. Virgil put his hand on it this time.

“Is it working improperly?” Logan asked, eyeballing it as Virgil picked it up off the table.

“I’m working on it,” Virgil hissed. Still nothing. Okay. Well, it’s all focus for the other stuff, right? Virgil focused on what he wanted to say instead of actually saying it while he held the radio.

“You’re a-” There was a loud beep. “-head,” The radio provided and Remus jumped and looked to the radio with wide eyes.

“That was a real sentence amid the chaos. Was that Virgil?” Logan asked curiously.

“No-” Another loud beep. “-Sherlock,” Virgil projected through the box.

“Virgil’s censored,” Remus laughed out loud, genuinely and deeply while pointing at the radio.

“Oh-” A long tone. “-Off,” Virgil said. This was annoying. Virgil was now PG-13. Damn you, radio.

“I suppose that means it works, though,” Logan mused. “How about saying something more complex?” He suggested.

“The quick tan fox leap over the lazy dog,” Virgil said through the radio’s choppy frequency jumping. Virgil tested turning it off and on between statements this time. He was able to switch it pretty easily.

“So the word choice is only close, not completely accurate. Assuming you were referencing the font display sentence,” Logan mused, rubbing his chin.

“I tried,” Virgil said with the box. He took it back over to the couch to set with Remus again. “Are you okay?”

“I… want to be, but it’s hard,” Remus said sadly.

“I can go. I’m apologize,” God, the box found synonyms without considering grammar. Logan flinched in disgust. “Ick,”

“Agreed,” Logan shuddered. “You don’t have to leave, Virgil. It’s just very hard news to take,” Logan got up from the kitchen table and sat next to Remus. Remus leaned against him immediately sighed.

“Yeah, it’s not… your fault you’re dead or anything,” Remus said sadly.

“I part. No. Stupid Box. I helped,” Virgil said with the box, annoyed with its improper word selections. “Dead isn’t so bad,” Virgil repeated his earlier sentiment with the box. “Thanks for believing me,”

“We’re sorry for assuming you were playing a cruel prank. It must have been painful to be ignored like that,” Logan said dourly.

“It was only annoying,” Virgil said, flipping the radio in his hand. “Sorry again I death,” Virgil added. He was getting kind of sleepy, so Virgil put down the radio and went to go plug in the phone charger.

“Virgil, it’s not your fault,” Logan said weakly. Virgil plugged the charger in and shoved it in himself. He yelped at first, which caused the ghost box on the coffee table to crackle violently for a moment. It was pretty low grade constant pain, but hopefully this way won’t set anything in their house on fire or blow a breaker.

“That’s… weird,” Remus sniffled and looked over to see the charger floating in the air. “This is weird,” Remus chuckled weakly and started crying. Logan wrapped his arms around Remus gently, and Remus buried his face in Logan’s chest and started crying.

Virgil leaned back against the hall and sighed. Everybody is crying today. He didn’t want to deal with this. Virgil dropped his focus on reality and the fog overtook until he sat in the strange gray ghost world version of their living room. He could kind of make out their vague shapes on the couch, but they just looked like weird blobs of light rather than a human form like Virgil. The silence here was really strangely loud. It was desolate and lonely here. Ghost world was probably the best name for it, because even the world seemed dead. It had the same vibe as watching a recording of an unattended grave in black-and-white.

Virgil decided to take a ghost nap while he charged up. He may as well. He didn’t want to listen to his best friend cry, and he didn’t want to be alone. Even just seeing the blobs of light on the couch was better than sitting alone in his house. Maybe he was just avoiding feeling things. He had to feel things there. He could pretend to be okay with Remus and Logan.

Virgil dropped his awareness to nothing but holding focus on the charger and the pain it caused. He wished he could do this when he was alive. Well, he kind of could do it, but he rarely did by choice. The pain wasn’t bright and hot and overwhelming like when he put a finger in the socket. It was more steady and warm and tingling. Like when you’ve been sitting on your legs for four hours and stand up and the feeling comes back to them, but in his whole body. And his body didn’t feel like distinct parts anymore. It was just him. Everything he felt was in all of him.

The urge to close his eyes and drift was still strong. The wall charger was too slow, maybe. Virgil dropped his focus from it and the plug fell to the floor. He closed his eyes and pictured the kitchen at Zillah’s place so he could bother a plug in there. He opened them again, and he was still on the floor at Logan’s. Damn. Too low on energy, maybe. Virgil crawled over to the ghost box and tried his hardest to communicate.

“I’m going to take a ghost sleeping. Low power,” The box said and Virgil let his awareness drop completely, feeling entirely drained by that last communication. Things went from gray to black, and Virgil was nothing once more.

— ☠ —

Virgil woke up on fire. Literally. He was on fire. Fire surrounded him in a horrific oven. Holy shit! Holy shit! Virgil squeezed his eyes tight and pictured Logan’s place as hard as he could.

“Does it smell like burning?” Logan said curiously, sniffing the air while stirring something on the stove. “It’s not the food,”

“Maybe something fell on a burner?” Remus said, walking into the kitchen and sniffing. “It’s stronger in the living room,” Remus said, turning back out there. Virgil reached for the ghost box and plugged himself back into the wall.

“Sorry. They were burning me,” Virgil said through the box.

“Virge! Holy shit! I didn’t know you were back,” Remus jumped back. “They were burning you?”

“My body,” Virgil clarified.

“Oh, you’re… being cremated, huh?” Remus said nervously.

“I guess so,” Virgil shrugged. “How long was I out?”

“A few days. Welcome back, Virgil,” Logan said nicely and turned to nod at the place Virgil sat. “So that smell was… you,” He said nervously. “That explains how it’s already gone, but it’s strange you brought it with you somehow. Do you default back to your body when you… ghost sleep?”

“Yeah. We’ll see how that working with no person soon,” Virgil said through the box.

“It’ll probably be your urn,” Remus said curiously. “Are you having a funeral?”

“I hope not. I asked no. Can you hand me my phone?” Virgil asked. Remus nodded and collected it off of a side table and passed it down to where the box is. Virgil took it and checked the texts. No response from Roman yet.

‘hy. i lv u. hope ur not wastin mney on a funerl. r u doin ok?’ Virgil texted Roman. ‘thx 4 cremating vote u were rite I didnt wnt to be stck lik tht,’ Virgil also texted Remy. ‘do u wnt to come raid zi’s shit soon?’

‘i dunno who your are with Virgil’s phone but yes absolutely,’ Remy sent back almost immediately.

“My friend Rem-y is up to rob the house for my brother,” Virgil said through the box. “Need to brain out how to help,”

“You’ll need some way to communicate at the house and I assume some way to mark or hold things. Maybe write, even…” Logan said, curiously rubbing his chin while he stirred the pot on the stove.

“I know how he can write!” Remus got up excitedly and dug around in the kitchen drawer. He pulled out a metal straw and went to the bookshelf with the bins of things and produced a pencil. He shoved it inside. It scraped the pencil a bit so it seemed like a good fit.

“Actually, while graphite is not metal, it conducts electricity. Virgil should be able to use a regular pencil,” Logan said brightly, producing a pencil from his pocket and walking over to hand it down to Virgil. Virgil’s grasp on it was a little tenuous, but he could hold it. Logan hummed and tightened his lips while he watched the pencil wobble. “I will find my metal pen for you. But for the time being Virgil can use a pencil to mark things at the house,” Logan nodded and headed back to the kitchen to keep making dinner.

“If we can make some kind of metal clamp thing to hold the supplies, you could keep arting!” Remus said excitedly. Virgil perked up at that. He sort of figured he’d be kind of bored for eternity. “Woah, brain blast, hold on,” Remus suddenly bolted off into the bedroom and there was a loud clattering and clashing. Logan sighed heavily and shook his head while he took whatever he was cooking off the burner.

“Can you eat or drink, Virgil?” Logan asked curiously as he pulled plates down from the cabinet.

“No, probably. I can’t smell or taste, no matter what,” Virgil responded with the ghost box. Virgil looked down at it in frustration. He hoped Logan understood what he meant.

“Okay, so I think they’re still at my apartment. But I have metal chain mail gloves somewhere,” Remus came back out of the bedroom and ran his hand through his hair. “Then you can pick up non-conductive stuff and maybe we can just put those rubber pencil grips on art supplies so you can use them without setting them on fire,” Remus sounded extremely proud of himself. “I’ll pick them up after work tomorrow if I can find them,”

“Why don’t you guys move in group?” Virgil asked.

“Is group together? This synonym thing is weird. Logi has some weird rule about time span with a significant other before moving in together,” Remus rolled his eyes. “I’m here most of the time, though,”

“That’s because your apartment is a _disaster_ zone. Either way, neither of our leases is up. I think it would be most reasonable to move in together, then,” Logan said resolutely. “I mean, if we did,” He added much more sheepishly.

“Aw, you _like_ me,” Remus snickered and Virgil joined him. The ghost box made a weird crackly cackle when he did.

“Shut up,” Logan’s ears turned pink as he brought two plates of food out to the table. “Dinner is ready. This feels impolite to not serve you a plate,” Logan said after a pause. Remus happily plopped down at the table and started eating. “I’m glad your appetite has returned at least,” Logan smiled to Remus.

“Virgil brought it back, I guess,” Remus shrugged.

“Aw, you love me,” Virgil teased Remus back with his own words. “No worries, I’m eating current for food,”

“Maybe we should try a laptop charger so you can draw more current… How did you do it at… the house?” Logan asked carefully, seeming unwilling to say his name.

“Stuck my finger in. Fire hazard,” Virgil explained.

“Yes, I saw the bulb explode. Thank you for being considerate,” Logan nodded and sat down at the table with Remus to eat.

“I’m going to pop in on brother,” Virgil said through the box. Logan nodded and Remus waved with his mouth absolutely stuffed full. Virgil closed his eyes and thought of the kitchen at Zillah’s. He needed some more ghost go-go juice after using the spirit box. The kitchen has a metal fire extinguisher if it was a risk. He didn’t want it to burn down, at least until after they got stuff out. After an excruciating moment of blinding pain, Virgil popped over to Roman’s apartment.

Patton was making dinner, too. Remy and Roman were balled up on the couch, and there was a show on the TV, but it didn’t look like either were watching it. It was… extremely depressing.

“Roman, you can’t keep skipping meals,” Patton called from the kitchen. “Virgil wouldn’t like it if you stopped taking care of yourself,” Patton chided.

“You’re damn right I wouldn’t. Roman, you should be eating!” Virgil growled and tried to take Roman’s hand. Roman shivered and pulled his hand away quickly. God damnit, when was he going to get used to this?

“What’s up, babe?” Remy asked, sounding kind of blank and toneless instead of his usual always-kind-of-pissed vibe.

“I just… felt something on my hand, maybe,” Roman said dourly, with none of the vigor and energy he normally had either. This was _so god damn fucking_ depressing.

“Food will help!” Patton called out to them again. Patton stress cooked, so it was likely he was up to something wild in there. Virgil and Roman were both good cooks, but Patton the-living-kitchen-tornado cooking was a little unnerving to Virgil.

He went into the kitchen and sighed. It was an absolute nightmare in here. It was probably worse than Remus’s apartment. Why was there flour out? It looked like he was making mac-and-cheese. He only needed a little for the roux. If he even knew how to make a roux. Virgil wasn’t sure. It didn’t need to be still out and spilled all over the damn counter and floor. Virgil drew a smiley face in the flour just for fun, but the flour nearly lit on the mouth. Whoops. Just a little puff of smoke, though.

“Pat, this is an absolute nightmare,” Virgil shook his head and leaned against the fridge, watching Patton bustle around making sides and biscuits and such. Comfort food, it looked like. And biscuits from a can. Those weren’t that hard to make from scratch, but Virgil probably shouldn’t judge. He stuck his hand in the flour just to see if he could pull a Scooby Doo on himself, but other than a tiny push from his fingertips before he went right through. The flour didn’t stick on him either.

Patton used to give the best hugs. Virgil watched Patton stir the pot of noodles bitterly. He walked over and tried to give him a hug, but Patton shivered and jumped in place, looking around wildly.

“Did you guys turn down the air conditioner?” Patton called out to them in confusion.

“No,” Remy called back. Virgil could tell they hadn’t left the couch, somehow.

“Sorry,” Virgil muttered. He stood behind Patton and rested his head next to Patton’s shoulder. Patton moved, but Virgil didn’t move along with him. There was something weird and twitchy about how Patton moved compared to how he was used to. Virgil stepped through to stand inside the stove and look at him. Ah. Patton was secretly crying. Wonderful. Great. Fantastic. Virgil sighed and stepped back through to the hall closet and pulled out Patton’s jacket by the wire hanger and held it out for him in the kitchen. Patton took it without looking over.

“Thanks, kiddo,” Patton said brightly.

“Pat, you stinkin’ liar,” Virgil muttered and put the hanger back away in the hall closet.

“Who are you talking to?” Remy asked from the living room.

“You got me my jacket. How did you know I was cold?” Patton asked curiously, way too upbeat for the tear tracks on his face.

“Uh, girl, we haven’t left the couch. Are you losing it in there?” Remy asked curiously, sounding concerned.

“No, of course not! I’m fine!” Patton called back.

“He’s a liar, and he’s crying!” Virgil called fruitlessly out to them. “Hope you like your mac-and-cheese extra salty!” The oven went off and Patton turned it off, juggling cooking a few things at once. Virgil picked up a pan of bacon by the bottom and shook it to make sure it didn’t burn. “Pat, turn off some burners or something,” Virgil groaned. Patton gave the noodles another quick stir before opening the oven to take out the biscuits. He reached in without anything to protect his hands, and Virgil panicked. “Pat, mitts!” He shouted and tried to shove Patton back before he burned his hand on the tray.

Virgil’s hand slipped right through, so he tried to focus even harder on shoving Patton out of the way, pushing everything into his hand. Things suddenly shifted and there was a dizzying sensation that just plain didn’t make sense for a moment. Virgil blinked, and he was at a new angle. Patton wasn’t in front of him anymore. Virgil looked down. He was… oh god; he _was_ Patton. Virgil reached up to turn off the burners and moved the bacon off the heat before grabbing an oven mitt to take out the biscuits and put them on the counter. Honestly, this was much safer than whatever Patton was going to do. Virgil drained the noodles and decided to finish making them so Patton wouldn’t hurt himself. Though also it was nice to be able to touch things again.

Virgil didn’t find a roux, which made the flour being out even more confusing, so he finished making the mac-and-cheese with milk and cheese on a low heat, adding a few seasonings. After drying off the bacon, he crumbled it in there and finished cooking the frozen vegetable blend. He didn’t think he’d ever miss cooking with how much he did it, but dying does funny things to you. He probably shouldn’t be doing this, though. How the fuck do you get out of someone’s body?

“Hey, fuckfaces, dinner’s ready and I’ll kick your asses if you don’t eat,” Virgil called out in Patton’s voice.

“… Pat?” Roman said incredulously from the living room.

“Nah, it’s fuckin’ _Casper the Friendly Ghost_ , who do you think it is?” Virgil groaned, finishing up the food. “Either of you know how to stop possessing somebody?”

“Salt,” Remy called from the living room. Salt? Virgil reached up into the cabinet and sprinkled some into Patton’s hair. It sent Virgil violently flying from Patton’s body and through the wall. Holy shit. Virgil held his head and shook it, then walked back inside to make sure Patton was okay. Patton was flat on his ass and looking completely confused.

“Sorry, dude,” Virgil chuckled. “I’d help you up if I could,” Virgil went to go sit at the table right outside the galley kitchen.

“Pat, are you okay?” Roman asked quietly, leaning around the kitchen doorway.

“I’m, uh, peachy keen,” Patton said and rubbed his head, looking around.

“Yuh-huh,” Remy said sarcastically, walking up from behind Roman and helping Patton off the floor. “Why were you on the floor, girl?”

“I… dunno,” Patton admitted, seeming a little shell-shocked. “I was pulling out the biscuits and… I dunno. Maybe I’m just tired and got dizzy from bending over,” Patton supposed.

“Boo! Tell the truth!” Virgil jeered at him.

“Why did you ask about how to stop someone from being possessed?” Roman asked incredulously, but his voice was just so tired sounding. It broke Virgil’s heart.

“It just… sort of came out? Like I said, I think I’m just tired,” Patton looked around the kitchen again. “Are y’all ready to eat?” Patton asked brightly and reached up into the cabinets for the plates. His hand was shaking too much, and he nearly dropped one, but Remy caught it.

“Yeah, go sit down, babe,” Remy rolled his eyes. “I’ll get the food,” Virgil looked around the living room for a charger or something. It looked like there was actually a laptop cable left out. Score. Virgil plugged it into the wall and jammed the plug into his awareness. He yelped out in pain as the electricity hit. This _way_ hurt more than a phone charger. Virgil just gritted his spectral teeth and bared it. There was no jaw tension to focus on or anything, but pain was pain and he wasn’t blacking out again or setting his brother’s apartment on fire.

“So, um, that was some colorful language for you, Pat,” Roman said quietly, sounding confused and sitting down next to Patton at the table.

“Yeah, just… sleepy. Long day at the gym,” Patton said sheepishly.

“Liar!” Virgil shouted at him.

“I’ve never heard you cuss about macaroni-and-cheese,” Roman furrowed his eyebrows.

“It’s uh, heckin’ good is all,” Patton dropped his eye line.

“Boo! At least be a better actor!” Virgil jeered again. He looked on the couch side table and noticed Roman’s phone. He reached up and texted Remy from it.

‘pats th wrst liar,’ he sent and set the phone down. There were some noises in the kitchen and Remy took out two plates loaded with food before heading back in to grab the third and sat down. Remy pulled out his phone to check it and looked up to Roman in confusion.

“I mean he is, but he’s right there,” Remy raised an eyebrow at Roman. Roman just looked confused.

“What are you talking about?” Roman asked.

“Who’s right here?” Patton asked.

“Eat your food, fuckers!” Virgil called out to them from the floor.

“Ro says you’re a bad liar,” Remy flipped out his phone to show them his screen.

“I didn’t send that. I don’t even text like that,” Roman said indignantly.

“It’s your phone number, babe,” Remy rolled his eyes.

“My phone is in the living room,” Roman crossed his arms. “That’s… who sent that?”

“Whatever. You are a bad liar, Pat,” Remy said, putting down his phone. “Seriously, what’s with all the F-bombs? You sounded like… well,” Remy trailed off. Oh, so close.

‘fnish ur sntnces remy,’ Virgil sent off from Roman’s phone to Remy. Remy’s phone buzzed on the table and all three of them looked at it curiously. Remy picked it up slowly.

“Is… somebody listening to us?” Remy asked, sounding freaked out.

“What does it say?”

“It says to finish my sentence,” Remy ran his hand through his hair. “Holy shit. Um, Roman’s phone has swipe to text, you know,”

‘its mre obv ths way,’ Virgil sent back. He also hadn’t been able to maintain that kind of of contact until recently, but everything seemed to be getting easier and easier.

“You have to be fucking shitting me,” Remy hissed. “Where are you?”

“What?” Roman asked, eyes wide. Patton looked scared.

‘If I was visible I wouldn’t be having these problems, now would I, Remy?’ Virgil sent, swiping around his finger. Geez, this was way easier. The auto correct had to catch almost all the words, but he still sent a whole ass sentence for once. He needed this installed on his phone. Logan probably could. He texted Logan to ask him to do that. Virgil’s off brand POS hopefully had some setting or something he missed. ‘Did you just text that way for the aesthetic then?’ Virgil sent to Remy.

“I-” Remy started and furrowed his eyebrows. ‘I thought we were doing a bit. Is it really you?’ Remy sent back.

‘I’d say in the flesh, but it was recently cremated,’ Virgil replied with a little snicker.

“You have the worst fucking sense of humor!” Remy shouted angrily.

“What? What’s going on?” Roman demanded, and Patton was holding on to Roman tight.

“It’s your fucking brother! It’s your goddamn fucking brother!” Remy hissed. “How dare you! How fucking dare you leave us like that!” Remy spat angrily, standing up from the kitchen table and pacing around the living room.

‘I told you, it wasn’t suicide. You saw the scars. Nothing that happened that night was intentional, but Zillah did most of the damage. I helped… but I didn’t set out to die and did nothing to myself that would have killed me,’ Virgil replied, feeling guilty.

“Well then, how the fuck did you die, huh?” Remy spat, running his hand through his hair and staring at his phone screen.

“Remy, kiddo-” Patton started.

“Not now, this bitch has some explaining to do!” Remy hissed at Patton and turned around, continuing to pace wildly.

‘Tell Roman to eat. Zi killed me. I don’t think he meant to,’ Virgil sent back. Remy just sat there in shock, staring at his phone. ‘You know, I had to show my friends the freaking crime scene, why do you believe me?’

“You better not have told someone else first!” Remy glowered as he paced.

‘Well, they texted me back,’ Virgil sent with a shrug.

“You can’t fucking tell me that shit!” Remy spat and threw his phone on to the couch. He must have caught Virgil holding the phone on the floor. “You!” He shouted and stomped up to him. Virgil waved Roman’s phone at him. Remy snatched it out of Virgil’s hands and marched over to the table. “He’s sitting on the fucking floor texting on your phone,” Remy slid the phone in front of Roman.

“W-what?” Roman stammered. “But he’s…”

“Yeah, he’s fucking dead!” Remy hissed.

“Remy, can you please calm down?” Patton asked weakly.

“I can’t calm down!” Remy growled and snatched Roman’s phone back and tossed it where Virgil was sitting. He struggled to catch it but managed to. “Why did you wait a few days?”

‘I was doing whatever ghosts do instead of sleeping, mostly. This shit is hard. Do you have a taser?’ Virgil sent.

“Why in the actual hell do you want a taser?” Remy growled and stomped off into his and Roman’s bedroom. He came back a moment later and chucked it at Virgil, who barely caught it with one hand. He put down the phone and dropped the laptop charger. He held it against his other palm and set it off. Virgil screamed, and the lights flickered once. He dropped the taser and exhaled.

“What the fuck was that?” Roman whispered.

“Girl, did you seriously just taze yourself?” Remy raised an eyebrow at him, finally calmed down a bit. And all it took was Virgil tazing himself. Lovely. Remy picked it up off the floor and tried to fire it, but it wouldn’t even crackle. “Great, now I’ve gotta charge it,” Remy grumbled and took it back into the bedroom. Virgil picked up the phone and the charger again to try to maintain a charge. It hurt like a god damn motherfucker.

“Is Remy okay?” Patton whispered. Roman just stared wide-eyed at the bedroom door.

‘Pat thinks you’re crazy, and he was possessed like 5 minutes ago. Wow,’ Virgil sent to Remy with a snicker.

“You are the one out of your mind if you don’t think Virgil’s sitting here laughing at us the very moment!” Remy shot from the bedroom.

‘I’m not laughing at you, just pat,’ Virgil sent. ‘For what it’s worth, I’m really sorry,’ He added after a pause.

“Sorry isn’t good enough, bitch. So you weren’t kidding about breaking in and taking all that stuff?” Remy asked, sitting back down at the table. “Because cremating your ass wasn’t cheap. I was saving up to fix my car A/C,” Remy said bitterly.

‘Zi has gold in his safe,’ Virgil sent, feeling like trash. ‘Sorry to cost so much,’

“Oh, shit, yeah. It’s a crime scene, though, right?” Remy asked cautiously.

‘If we can get in and out quick at night, it should be fine. They’d let you in eventually, but probably after Zillah’s family gets there and I deserve the money for all he put me though,’ Virgil suggested. ‘But you guys have to eat first. Just as someone who was very recently starved, but also as Roman’s older brother. Also, Pat’s been crying alone,’ Virgil sent.

“Pat,” Remy said shortly.

“What?” Patton shot up.

“We’re all here hurting, stop trying to hide it,” Remy hissed. “And babe, eat the fucking food before Virgil possesses you and makes you do it,”

‘Good idea,’ Virgil sent with an evil smiley face.

“Yeah, that was him saying he would eat unless you wanna get possessed,” Remy said, taking a bite of food himself. “Seasoning is good,” Remy grunted.

‘Thanks,’ Virgil replied.

“Remy have you completely lost it?” Roman looked desperately upset at Remy. Ouch, okay. “He’s gone, okay! I don’t know what’s going on, but he’s dead!” Roman’s voice raised in desperation and volume with each word.

“Yeah, of course he’s fucking dead, but he’s not gone, the god damn mother fucking asshole bitch,” Remy growled.

“Remy! It’s not right to speak ill of the dead!” Patton hissed quietly.

‘No, I probably deserve it,’ Virgil sent to them. Remy exhaled humorously and showed Patton his phone.

“See, that bastard agrees,” Remy said bitterly. Patton took it carefully and scrolled through the texts and looked confused.

‘Hey Pat, sorry for possessing you. I didn’t know I could,’ Virgil sent. Patton jumped out of his chair and dropped Remy’s phone on the table.

“Bitch, be careful!” Remy hissed and picked up his phone. Patton bolted into his bedroom, looking terrified. Shit.

“Remy, I don’t know what’s going on with you or the phones, but he’s dead, okay?” Roman said weakly. He picked up his fork just to stab at the food, not taking a bite. He left the fork sticking out of the biscuit and looked close to tears. Virgil couldn’t take watching him not eat food anymore.

‘I’m going in,’ Virgil texted Remy, who just looked at the phone and nodded. Virgil put down Roman’s phone and unplugged himself with a little squeak of pain and got up to head over to Roman.

“I’m can’t take you not eating anymore. Sorry, Ro,” Virgil said and reached out, putting his hand inside Roman’s chest and pushing his focus into it, closing his eyes. He wobbled slightly when reopening them, feeling incredibly disoriented. He held his-well, Roman’s head for a moment. “Hey Rem,” He breathed and picked up the fork.

“Hey, fucker,” Remy glowered at him.

“It wasn’t my fucking intention to die, okay? Things got incredibly out of hand,” Virgil sighed and took a bite of dinner. He still couldn’t taste it, which kind of pissed him off. Virgil put down the fork and pinched Roman’s arm. He felt it minutely at most. He resumed eating. This was such bullshit.

“You still fucking left us and I’m allowed to be god damn angry about it,” Remy snarled.

“I didn’t say you weren’t allowed to be. You’re just kind of acting like it was my fault, and it wasn’t. You saw what he did to me, Rem. I just couldn’t take it anymore,” Virgil said softly after swallowing another bite of food. Roman’s stomach kind of hurt in a familiar way. “How long has it been since this idiot ate a regular meal?”

“He said he ate this morning,” Remy said bitterly, taking a bite of biscuit after dipping it in the mac-and-cheese.

“I think he lied,” Virgil said angrily. “I hope I’m not hurting him or something,”

“Patton looked okay, I think. If you are hurting him any, it’s probably no worse than slow starvation,” Remy shrugged, looking much less angry and sad and concerned.

“So what did he…” Remy trailed off.

“Dude! I don’t know if Roman can hear and I don’t want him to know!” Virgil hissed angrily.

“That bad, huh?” Remy chuckled weakly and took a slow bite of biscuit.

“I don’t think there’s a good explanation for a single one of those marks, Rem,” Virgil said sourly.

“I don’t know what happened, I thought they were all recent,” Remy said flippantly.

“No. They weren’t. Not that plenty weren’t recent,” Virgil mumbled. “I thought he loved me. I really did. He used to say sweet things about me and made it so easy to forgive him when he hurt me. And then eventually, the hurt never stopped for kind words and gifts and affection. I thought it was okay because I loved him and he wanted to. And he was always so affectionate afterwards, so it felt like it made him happy… and that’s all I wanted. Was for him to be happy. I don’t know where my own happiness left me. I just know that it was the last straw, and I wasn’t thinking straight because my body was shutting down from all the shit he did,” Virgil explained and took another bite of food. “It all seems stupid in retrospect. Why I didn’t notice sooner, or why I made the choices, I did when I was delirious,” He admitted. “I’m really fucking stupid,”

“Damn right you are,” Remy muttered between bites of food. Virgil sighed and shrugged a little. There was nothing he could do now.

“Pat needs to eat, too. I’m going to go get him,” Virgil said morosely and got up from the table after shoving a bite of biscuit in Roman’s mouth. Remy nodded and motioned to Pat’s room. Virgil got up and walked over to Pat’s room and knocked on the door. “Hey, Pat,”

“Hey, Ro,” He heard Patton say weakly through the bedroom door.

“Dinner’s going to get cold. You went through all the effort of making it. Come on,” Virgil said kindly. “We’re here for you,”

“It just… freaked me out, is all,” Patton said, sounding closer. The door opened. Virgil held open his arms and Patton came in for a hug quickly. Virgil rubbed Patton’s back.

“It’s going to be okay,” Virgil whispered. “Come on, eat,” He gave Patton a light squeeze and started leading him back to the table. Virgil sat Patton down and stared at him. “I’ll take another bite when you start eating, and then we both can be taken care of,”

“Okay,” Patton said weakly and picked up his fork and started eating. Virgil sighed and went back to eating Roman’s dinner for him.

“So how long can you hold that?” Remy asked after a moment of quiet eating.

“I don’t know. Is there another taser I can use?” Virgil asked. Patton looked at Roman in confusion.

“Yeah, I’ll grab it,” Remy got up from the table and Virgil focused on eating while he was gone. He emerged from his room with another taser, maybe Roman’s, and placed it on the kitchen table. He settled back into his seat and returned to eating.

“I want everyone to finish their plates,” Virgil said resolutely. “I wish there were more vegetables present in this starch fest, but if it makes you happy I’m all for it,” Remy rolled his eyes and grunted.

“You don’t get to say shit like that,” Remy glowered at him.

“I think I’m in the very unique situation to say that as someone who was denied meals often,” Virgil said bitterly. “Do it for my sorry ass who couldn’t eat in life and can’t even taste in death,” Patton’s fork clattered to his plate, and he stared at Roman. “I mean I still sneaked food, Pat,”

“I don’t think that’s what he’s freaked out about,” Remy chuckled. “Though, like, Jesus,”

“V-v-v,” Patton couldn’t manage to get the sounds out.

“Yes?” Virgil asked, taking another bite. “I’m serious, if you don’t eat that whole plate I’m coming for you next,” Virgil added, and Patton picked up his fork quickly and started shoving food in his mouth. “Seriously, Rem, why do you believe me? Ro clearly doesn’t and Patton probably thinks he’s hallucinating,” Patton’s eyes widened but he didn’t stop eating. Virgil downed some vegetable blend while Remy explained.

“Oh, my high school boyfriend haunted me for a bit. He texted me from his phone, too. Accidentally possessed my mom. He moved on before I started dating Ro, I think. He went to go tour Europe and never contacted me again,” Remy explained. Virgil didn’t like the sound of moving on.

“Do you… know why he turned into a ghost? Zi didn’t… at least I didn’t see him,” Virgil whispered. Patton nearly jumped up, but Virgil firmly grabbed his arm and held him at the table with his free hand. “I don’t care if you think Roman’s lost it or you are hallucinating, you are eating the entire plate and that is final, Pat,” Virgil said darkly. Patton started eating again and Virgil released him. Roman’s voice sounded almost wrong when Virgil talked like that.

“He… didn’t know. But the way he died… His dad… well, it wasn’t pretty. Maybe it’s because… y’know,” Remy motioned at Roman and said with an uncharacteristic quietness. Oh… Maybe he _was_ a poltergeist.

“I… see,” Virgil said carefully and took another bite. “If you don’t want me around, I can just leave. I’ll respect your privacy and stuff. I’m taking care of Roman whether or not he likes it, though. Ideally, somebody could maybe keep paying for my phone. I hope I can get you enough money to cover it for a good while. Do you want to go tonight?” Virgil asked hopefully. “I’ll just keep control of Roman. I might be asleep for a long time after, just to warn you,”

“Yeah, let’s go tonight. Pat, you wanna rob Virgil’s stuff so Zi’s family doesn’t get to it first?” Remy asked temptingly. Patton jumped.

“What? They would do that?” Patton asked incredulously. “How dare they! Of course!” Patton shot.

“Are you just leaning into the insanity or genuinely pissed in my stead?” Virgil asked humorously.

“I think both!” Patton said, sounding cheery but very off. “Is it too suspicious to wear all black or just right? I don’t normally commit crimes,” Patton asked and ate his biscuit.

“I think it’s only suspicious if we wear ski masks,” Virgil chuckled. “I’m going to ask my friends to come so they can take my art stuff. They’re working on a way to let me still paint,” Virgil said, getting up and grabbing Roman’s phone. He texted Remus and asked if they were free for some completely legal activities. Remus sent back a shit emoji and a few thumbs ups. “Is three cars too suspicious, though? Maybe we should just take Ro’s Lemon,” Virgil rubbed Roman’s chin.

“Yeah, three is probably p sus. Just Ro’s car and your friend’s should be fine,” Remy mused. “I’m gonna break so much of his shit,” He hissed in dark delight.

“Fuck yeah!” Virgil cheered. “But, uh, masks. You should really wear masks. Like, face masks, not ski masks. There’s… like… so much… ketchup,” Virgil said, not wanting them to lose their appetites before they finished eating. They were both pretty close to done, thankfully.

“Ketchup?” Patton asked and chuckled, shaking his head. Oh boy, Pat might’ve lost it.

“ _Who’s_ ketchup?” Remy squinted his eyes but kept eating. Thank god.

“It’s a… depends on the location. A good mix. Mostly Zi’s,” Virgil said awkwardly. There was a lot after the whole heart-stabbing thing.

“Good,” Remy hissed and scraped the last of his mac-and-cheese into one spot and scooped it up with his biscuit.

“Pat, did I hurt you earlier? Are you okay? Will Roman be okay?” Virgil asked, then scooped the last of the food into Roman’s mouth. He hoped he didn’t overeat, but Roman needed it anyway.

“I dunno!” He chimed and finished his biscuit.

“Did… are you still with us, Pat?” Virgil asked carefully.

“Maybe!” He chirped. “Finished!” Patton held out his hands to display his empty plate.

“Is… do you think he’s going to be okay?” Virgil asked Remy with heavy concern.

“Eh, let’s deal with it later. We’ve got some breaking and entering to do,” Remy grabbed the plates off the table and quickly dumped them in the sink to soak with the empty pot of mac and cheese. “Come on, I’ll help you find some black clothes to change into. Pat, don’t wear anything reflective,” Remy ordered quickly and grabbed Roman’s arm. Virgil got up and followed him into the bedroom.

Remy dove right into the dresser quickly and started digging around. He produced two black long sleeve shirts and threw them on the bed. They both took off their old shirts and tossed them on the floor to change into the new ones. Roman’s pants in the dark room looked good enough and Remy seemed to agree, since he nodded after Virgil held out Roman’s leg to examine it. Virgil went out to wait for Remy and Patton.

“Alright, you’re fucking dead and Patton’s lost it so I’m driving,” Remy announced as he came out of the bedroom. “Get out here!” Remy called to Patton and passed Virgil a pair of gloves. Patton came out in black track pants and a dark blue shirt with a pair of gloves and a dark scarf. “Babe, it’s gonna be so hot in a scarf. We’ve got masks under the sink for cleaning,” Remy rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen, followed by Virgil and Patton. He pulled out 3 medical-style masks from under the sink cabinet. He waved at them. “Come on bitches, let’s ride,” Remy declared firmly and chucked the masks at Virgil. Virgil chuckled and followed Remy out the door and down to the car. He let Remus know they were on their way to the house and texted the address to Remy for his GPS. Remy slid on a pair of gloves and started the car.

The ride over was mostly filled with Patton giggling deliriously and Remy growling, which was weird, but what can a ghoul do. They parked on the street and went in. Remus and Logan would be right behind them soon. Remy marched right through the front door and pulled on a mask, with Virgil right behind him, dragging Patton who was still tittering behind his mask.

“Holy god damn shit,” Remy muttered. “That… is a lot of ketchup,”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll get stuff from the living room. You want the first door on the right for Zillah’s office to steal his shit. Pat, go into the kitchen and get some grocery bags to carry this shit. It’s less suspicious than a big box. Virgil pushed Patton into the kitchen. “Pantry. Meet Remy in Zi’s office with them,” He ordered and headed into the living room.

It looked like the police took the laptop for some reason, even though the security footage was online. That sucked. He grabbed his tablet and headphones off the desk. He then headed into Zillah’s office, where Remy was already chucking high-dollar shit into reusable shopping totes. Virgil deposited his things in an empty bag and bent down to Zillah’s safe and entered the six-digit code. Virgil also got that from the black book in his office, but he hadn’t opened it before.

Right on top of some papers on an upper shelf in the safe was a handgun, which caused Virgil to freeze. Wow. He could have ended that much faster. So could Zillah. Virgil ignored it and started grabbing the precious metals that Zillah used for investing and scooping them into a tote. There was a loud crash behind Virgil and he turned to see Remy laughing over a broken glass skull.

“Nice,” Virgil nodded and cleared out the safe of anything of value. Even the hand gun. It’d be worth a hundski at a pawnshop or something. That’s a few months of Virgil’s cheap cell service. He closed the safe back up when he was done. Patton was stuffing Zillah’s laptop in the bag with Virgil’s tablet, and Remy threw a snow globe from the shelf with a satisfying shatter. “Let’s move the stuff of value to the front hall so Remy can fuck shit up in here,” Virgil said to Patton, who nodded and grabbed a few bags. Virgil picked up the empties and went to the room with storage in it to load in some art supplies.

“Hey, Virge!” Remus called.

“Oh, hey dude, down the hall,” Virgil called.

“My word, it smells worse, somehow,” He heard Logan bemoan. “Wait, Virgil, did you just talk?” He projected down the hall.

“Turns out I can possess people. I’m in my brother. I didn’t think we sounded that similar,” Virgil chuckled. “Remy’s breaking shit in Zi’s office-” Which was accented by another shattering noise. “If you wanted to join him,”

“Fuck yeah, I do!” Remus cheered and a few seconds later there was a loud crash and a cheer.

“Hey, you’re cute!” He heard Patton coo.

“Thank… you?” Logan sounded baffled.

“That’s Patton. We grew up together. He also got kicked out for being gay so we split an apartment together as teenagers. He’s also possibly gone a scootch insane from the whole haunting thing. That’s Remy breaking shit with Remus, he’s Roman’s boyfriend, but we’ve been friends for a long time. He’s a manager at Moonlighters. Kinda feral,” Virgil called out. “I’m grabbing my art stuff and looking for high-dollar shit in storage to pawn if you want to join me, or you can babysit Patton. He might _actually_ think that’s ketchup out there,”

“Patton, would you like to join me?” Logan asked kindly.

“Okay!” Patton said brightly and Logan entered the room Virgil was in.

“Go sit in the corner, please,” Logan pointed over to an empty corner near the window and Patton nodded and skipped over and plopped down.

“Good call,” Virgil said, ripping open another box. Ugh, a sex swing. It was worth some money to sell, but Virgil didn’t feel like dealing with any of those memories right now. He didn’t want to get sucked out of Roman, either. Virgil punched it over and went to the next box down. Why didn’t they label these? “Ah, here are the photo albums,” Virgil kicked the box towards Logan. Logan started bagging the albums for him. Virgil went over to the next box and found his art stuff. “Score!” He grabbed a bag and loaded in his paints and brushes. “The canvases are probably near here,” There was another loud crashing noise a little closer. They must have gone to the bedroom. Zillah’s office must be a wreck if they have already moved on.

“We should really hurry. I’ll start moving this stuff to the car with Patton. Patton, please join me,” Logan said, and Patton got up. Logan picked up the bag, and they both left the room.

Virgil found his canvases behind a large wardrobe box and pulled them out. They were already twined together, so he scooted them near the door and checked a few more boxes. Remus came in to grab the canvases with a big grin.

“Hey, V!” Remus chirped. “Hey, V’s brother!” He added after a moment. Virgil waved and pulled open a box.

“Oh, Vinyl. These are worth money, right?” Virgil asked, picking up some classic rock album.

“Dibs,” Remus said right away and reached out for the box instead, just taking it. Virgil laughed and checked the last box.

“Oh, look nana’s quilt,” Virgil hummed. He threw the quilt over one shoulder and grabbed his canvases. “I grabbed the last of the family shit! Remy, you want to fuck shit up in here, or are you good?”

“If it’s just boxes, I’m good,” Remy called back. “I think I broke everything glass that wasn’t a window,”

“You want to break some plates real quick? I haven’t fucked anything up yet,” Virgil said.

“You’d better fuckin’ believe it!” Remy cheered, sounding even more pissed than before, and came out of the bedroom and headed to the kitchen. Virgil put the canvasses and quilt down near the door where they put the bags earlier and joined Remy in the kitchen. Remy had already thrown a mug down.

“There’s only one mug I like, it’s purple with a chip. Don’t break that. Everything else? Fuck it,” Virgil said, reaching up into a high cabinet for a wine glass and throwing it against the back wall with a satisfying shatter. Virgil and Remy’s dishware destruction attracted a wild Remus when he came back in.

“Gentlemen, you are going to draw attention,” Logan said with exasperation, heading into the kitchen. Patton popped up behind him and got an excited look, reaching into a cabinet to break a plate.

“Do you have any idea how loud we got when we died? It’s fine, trust me. This house is soundproofed to hell so people wouldn’t call the cops on him. It’s cathartic, grab a glass before we break them all,” Virgil laughed, chucking a ceramic bowl at his feet. Patton was about to grab and chuck his favourite mug, but Virgil grabbed it out of his hands. “Nuh-uh, I’m using this for painting,” Virgil chuckled and passed down Patton a champagne glass. Logan sighed, but he grabbed a plate and shattered it as his feet and a small look of satisfaction spread on his face. Virgil went over to the shit table and threw the wood box with his wallet in it hard against the wall. The clasp on the back broke, and he retrieved his wallet and the Totoro keychain from Remus.

They didn’t stop until every dish was destroyed, then cleared out quickly afterwards. Remus and Logan’s car had all the art stuff, the vinyl, and the bag with Zi’s laptop and Virgil’s tablet so they could try to find a way to let Virgil use it still. They also let Logan take a few bars of precious metals for some spending money. Patton was cackling in the back seat with nana’s quilt in his lap and swaying slightly. Remy looked extremely satisfied. Even smug. Logan and Remus left in their own car and brought Virgil’s art stuff back with them.

Virgil had a feeling he was going to be out as soon as he left Roman’s body, so he wanted to make sure Roman was somewhere safe first. Remy didn’t seem to mind that he was going to have to manage loopy Pat and potentially confused or freaking out Roman. He wasn’t sure how aware Roman actually was while Virgil had control. Pat didn’t clarify and possibly wasn’t even capable of doing so.

“So Remus showed me this jacket you bought at the mall a few weeks before you died and we grabbed it out of the closet for Pat. We thought him having something of yours might help,” Remy said as he drove. “I don’t really know when he’s going to stop being a loopy wreck, though,”

“How you doing back there, Pat?” Virgil leaned back and looked at Patton.

“Tired, I think,” Patton supplied with a little yawn.

“Maybe we can put them both to bed and they’ll wake up refreshed and sane?” Virgil joked weakly.

“Oh, honey,” Remy chuckled. “We haven’t been sane since you left us. I’m just hoping this all makes things a little easier,”

“I… I’m so sorry,” Virgil whispered.

“Roman, why are you crying?” Patton asked brightly. Virgil flipped down the vizier and checked the passenger mirror. Yup, he was crying, but he couldn’t feel it because being a ghost is awful and numb.

“Because I’m a fuck-up,” Virgil said plainly and wiped his eyes on his sleeves.

“Awe, now, buddy, don’t talk like that. You’re not a fuckup,” Patton said softly.

“Pat, you’re off the rails and my own brother doesn’t believe me and I’m fucking dead,” Virgil hissed and flopped his head back on the car seat. “Back me up, Rem,”

“You’re not a fuckup. I was just mad. Remus… might have explained some things in the bedroom after I found certain _items_ while destroying shit,” Remy mumbled. “I won’t tell Roman. I’m… really sorry you went through that. I couldn’t understand how someone could... well… But he taught you that running isn’t safe, right?” Remy asked with a quiet intensity. “And that what he was doing was normal?”

“Yeah. Yeah, he did,” Virgil whispered, and the tears on Roman’s sleeves again. “I was… in a bad place in college. I did stuff I’m not proud of. I was just trying to deal with that desire. And he was so sweet, and he eased me into things, and I didn’t have those… wants anymore. And it was great. It really was. It just… turned into something else over time. So gradually that I guess I didn’t stop to realize. And I know I was stupid. Of course I was stupid. I should have seen it ages ago. I should have stopped him the first time he did something I didn’t want him to do. I… I was so blind,” Virgil exhaled sullenly and the mirror fogged up.

“Virge,” Remy said softly. “That’s fucking bullshit,” He said so suddenly and angrily and it caused Virgil to jump in the car seat. “So I’m angry at you for leaving me, but it’s misplaced, okay? He was isolating you. He was trapping you. You said it yourself, you didn’t even kill yourself. I should be mad at that motherfucker for putting you through all of that. And I’m not mad at you for hiding it because I get why you didn’t want to talk about it or even know that you should have told someone, now. It wasn't fair for me to be mad at you for that in the first place,” Remy said firmly.

“You have every right to be mad at me,” Virgil grunted and opened the glove box for a tissue. Roman’s nose was running.

“I have every right to be mad at the guy who was _abusing_ you. You’re my friend, one of my best, and you didn’t put yourself in that situation and you couldn’t get yourself out. Ro mentioned you were acting weird when you saw him last, but we didn’t put two and two together, either. We both wanted to believe that it was a one-off thing, and that you were as happy with him as you always were. We could have reached out. He could have just drove off with you in the car,”

“No!” Virgil shot suddenly, interrupting him. “Not that!” He panicked and held his head.

“Bitch, what the fuck?” Remy jerked, and the car swerved on the road. “Don’t do that while I’m fucking driving!”

“Sorry,” Virgil muttered. “I… he… there were rules. And lessons. Staying out with other guys… was… not ideal,” Virgil didn’t know how to say this. If he was in his body, he’d probably be having a panic attack right now. It was nice to be able to not freak out as badly.

“What did he…” Remy trailed off.

“It was bad. And I’d rather not talk about it right now. Maybe later. In private. When I’m not in my brother’s body and Patton isn’t in the middle of a metal breakdown in the back seat. Obviously, I’m not a fan of talking about it, but if you want to know, I’ll tell you,” Virgil said, feeling exasperated and frustrated by the very concept. But he was shit at communicating in life, and it was most of what he had left in death.

“Do your brothers _count_ as other guys?” Remy asked incredulously.

“I think… he thought other people saw me like he did,” Virgil reached up and held himself. Held Roman. Whatever. “And he didn’t trust me in the slightest,”

“Shit,” Remy hissed. He pulled into their apartment complex with a weary sigh.

“Yeah,” Virgil trailed off slowly.

“He didn’t-”

“Whatever it was he probably did,” Virgil sighed. “I still wonder if he ever actually loved me back and was just sick or if he was just using me,” Virgil squeezed Roman’s arms. “I don’t think I’ll ever know. You want to know the shittiest thing I found out ghosts can do is?”

“What’s that?” Remy asked, sounding concerned.

“I can go relieve any memory with perfect clarity. If I even think about it with any amount of focus, I’ll get sucked in. Standing there. Watching it go down,” Virgil closed his eyes and leaned back. “I’m so relieved I get to still be here with you guys, I really am. But I can’t help but feel like this is all another punishment. Another fucked up thing I have to deal with for some shitty thing I did.”

“Virge you didn’t have any- I mean, shit. God, I get why you don’t want Ro to know, but this is really fucking hard to dance around,” Remy hissed. “You weren’t in control. He was. Maybe you getting ghosted by the universe was just random or got assigned because of the way you died, like my ex.”

“Poltergeists are supposed to be created from gruesome deaths. And I can interact with stuff like a poltergeist is supposed to be able to. But they’re supposed to be crazy and out of control,” Virgil explained half-heartedly. Remy pulled the car into park. “I could be dangerous,” Virgil lamented quietly.

“I don’t know how any of this stuff works. But if you’re implying I should get someone to exorcise you or something, I’m not doing that,” Remy said firmly. “Pat, babe, we’re home. Get the bags and get inside,” He added tiredly.

“Sure!” Patton bolted upright and unbuckled. He grabbed the bags and quilt and got out of the car.

“I really hope he just lies down and goes to sleep,” Remy sighed. “Come on. Let’s get this shit inside and get Roman changed for bed and tuck him in,” Remy motioned to get up. Virgil slowly released himself and got out of the car, grabbing the bags from the trunk with Remy and headed upstairs.

Patton stood waiting at the door, so Remy sighed dramatically and put down his bags to unlock the door. It wasn’t surprising he forgot his keys. Remy let him in and they all just dumped the things in the living room, unwilling to deal with them tonight. Virgil reached out and gave Patton a hug, who happily returned one. He really wished he could feel it.

“Get some sleep, leapfrog,” Virgil reached up and ruffled his hair. “Make sure I eat tomorrow morning, okay?” He asked sweetly.

“Oh, okay?” Patton said curiously. Virgil pushed Patton into his bedroom with a tired exhale.

“Leapfrog?” Remy asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I called him that as kids. He used to love jumping off of anything and we played that leapfrog game where you jump over each other. Roman was probably just a little too young to remember that well. It’s easy to remember these things now, I probably would have forgotten, too,”

Virgil said and followed Remy into their shared bedroom. Remy went digging in the drawers again and gave Virgil something to change into. He nearly left the bedroom to change, but there wasn’t a point. He just turned around and changed into Roman’s bed clothes. He picked up the shirt from earlier off the floor and dropped it in the basket before plugging in Roman’s phone and crawling into bed. Remy climbed in on the other side and pulled Roman close to himself.

“It’s still me, doofus,” Virgil chuckled.

“I know. I assumed you hadn’t been cuddled in a while, and I can cuddle my boyfriend whenever. He said so,” Remy said teasingly.

“Oh, it’s just been a few weeks from my perspective, it wasn’t that long ago,” Virgil shrugged and shifted to adjust the pillow. Roman was a side sleeper and Virgil wanted him to be comfortable.

“Babe,” Remy deadpanned.

“What?” Virgil huffed.

“How long is a _long time_ that is a few weeks isn’t one?” Remy asked incredulously.

“Oh, hmm. Two months?” Virgil said, curiously recalling.

“There was one bed at his house, did you put up a separator?” Remy sounded annoyed.

“Oh, no, Zi’s really cuddly in his sleep. A separator wouldn’t have stopped him. He was strong. I usually slept on the couch. I had to earn sleeping on the bed. I slept at the foot of the bed if I was good. Sleeping up with him was rare,” Virgil explained blithely.

“Girl, that’s fucked up. So you slept on the couch if you were bad? How very straight couple,” Remy chuckled darkly and pulled Roman closer.

“I slept on the floor behind the couch if I was bad. Where I died, actually. How appropriate,” Virgil deadpanned. “I’m not saying where I slept if I was very bad,” Virgil said, feeling very annoyed. Remy pulled Virgil tight to him. “What?”

“Stay in Ro a little longer and take some fuckin’ ghost cuddles,” Remy insisted.

“I don’t know if this is bad for him or hurting him to do it for a long time,” Virgil whispered back.

“I’m sure he’s fine and if he believed me in the slightest he’d agree,” Remy said resolutely.

“I’m not human, Remy, I’m not getting oxytocin or anything. I can barely feel it,” Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Ro probably still is and you can feel it. People still love you even though you’re an evil dead ghost. In fact, I want you to haunt my boss the next time he tries to cut staff spending by sending people home early behind my back,” Remy said impishly.

“Done. Text me anytime you need someone haunted. I may as well have fun being dead,” Virgil chuckled quietly.

“It’s nice of that nerd and the weird guy to try to help you with having stuff to do while dead,” Remy said softly.

“Yeah, Remus is a good friend. Logan is too. I barely talked to him outside of talking to them both. Maybe it’s a fun engineering challenge or something. He made me a ghost box. Maybe y’all can pick up an old radio when you pawn the gun and he can make you a ghostbox so I can talk without hijacking my brother,” Virgil supposed.

“Yeah, sounds like a plan. Are you tired yet?” Remy asked with a little yawn.

“I don’t really feel anything. I can sort of feel what Roman is feeling distantly,” Virgil said. “I think I might be running off his energy or something since I should be tired by now. Make sure he eats a shit-ton tomorrow while I’m gone,”

“Where are you going?” Remy asked curiously.

“Nowhere, I think. I just… stop existing. I don’t know how to describe it other than that,” Virgil shrugged.

“That’s both scary and almost comforting in a weird way,” Remy whispered quietly.

“I think you just summarized my whole existence right now,” Virgil chuckled. “I’m just going to… slip away, I guess. I’ll probably no longer be in Roman when I wake up. Remus thinks I’ll wake up wherever my urn is, so put it somewhere in the open please. I’m still claustrophobic. You’re not wasting money on a funeral, right? They’re overpriced bullshit. Just get a park gazebo and some cake if you want to cry together,” Virgil asked.

“Roman wants one, but I’ll push for no. I kind of like the park gazebo and some cake thing, actually. That’s like… fifty bucks tops. Not another five K. We already dropped 3 grand on burning your ass. We can’t get the life insurance while the police have you filed as committed suicide, anyway,” Remy said bitterly.

“Oh, I’ll possess whoever I need to fix that. You just give me a time and a place when I wake up. I didn’t and I want the record to reflect that even if a hundred grand wasn’t on the line,” Virgil said sourly.

“You got it, babe,” Remy kissed Roman’s temple and Virgil flushed a little. “Good… indeterminate amount of time of non-existence, I guess,” Remy chuckled slightly, though it sounded sad.

“Love you, Rem. Love all of you,” Virgil whispered and let himself fade away from Roman and the world in general.

— ☠ —

Virgil came to, standing slightly in a shelf in Roman’s living room. Someone nicely left a taser and a spirit box next to the urn. Remus was right. He wondered what would happen if they spread his ashes. Maybe that’s how to banish him or something. Virgil picked up the taser and stepped out of the wall to discharge it on himself. Ugh, he didn’t miss that. It hurt just as much as last time. Virgil looked around the apartment and scanned it for any signs of life. Nobody was home. Virgil looked over to the clock. If Remy still worked mornings, he'd be the first home, but it was before noon at the moment. He wondered how much time had passed. Virgil looked around for any way to know, but he couldn’t find anything.

Going to Logan’s apartment to where his phone was seemed like the best bet. Virgil closed his eyes and pictured Logan’s living room. He opened his eyes and looked around. It looked very similar in here, still, so maybe it hadn’t been too long. Virgil scanned the living room for his phone. There was a small table against the wall Virgil found it on, along with the spirit box and a taser. Just like the urn location. Logan must have recommended it. Virgil picked up his phone, which was at half charge. It must not have been plugged in for a while. Virgil unlocked it and checked the date.

It had over a week. He was out for a ridiculous amount of time. He must have been pushing it staying in Roman for so long. Everyone was probably at work and he shouldn’t bother them. They’ve all got their own lives to handle. He can’t just always spend time with them. Watching Roman practice seemed like an acceptable way to pass the time, though. Virgil focused on Roman and closed his eyes.

He appeared on stage next to Roman and walked right off to go sit in the empty audience seats. Roman was in jeans and a red shirt and if Virgil didn’t know any better, he would say Roman looked okay. But he still looked sad in his eyes. He was a talented actor. There were probably people who would think he’s okay. Virgil watched them practice for a while. Some other people on stage could tell. It seemed like the stage manager did. She was gentle with him. The director, on the other hand, was a surly asshole, but Virgil kind of liked that about him. He wasn’t directly antagonizing Roman, but there were no baby gloves either. Just kind of… treating him like an adult, maybe. He seemed to be slightly more patient with Roman than the rest of the cast, but the stage manager cut him off now and again.

Virgil watched him for a few hours, but watching them repeat the same scene over and over again was wearing on him. He wasn’t sure how Roman even handled it. It was well into the afternoon and honestly the sadness in Roman floating just below the surface was getting really painful to watch. Remus worked at one of those luxury doggy daycares. Looking at dogs might cheer him up. Virgil closed his eyes and focused on Remus.

Dogs barked wildly around him before he even opened his eyes. They were all staring at him and half were barking at him aggressively. Virgil jumped up and tucked his legs in when one went in for the kill. He couldn’t be hurt, so it was just an instinctual reaction, but it was nice to float accidentally. He still hadn’t quite figured it out yet.

“What is up with you idiots?” Remus called out at the dogs. “What are you looking at?” Remus followed the eyeline of the various dogs staring at them. Virgil waved invisibly. He wasn’t sure if he should just leave. Virgil just decided to reappear behind the counter. One of the smaller dogs followed him and stared at him but the others seemed to have left him alone. He didn’t expect to have to hide behind the counter. He couldn’t really look at dogs other than this dachshund with the 1000-yard stare, it seemed. Well, it was cute and fat. Good enough.

“Hey little guy,” Virgil said and held out his hand. The dachshund walked up carefully and sniffed his hand, but looked confused. The dog sat down next to Virgil.

“What are you doing back here, Minnie?” Remus asked curiously and squatted down to scratch behind her ears. Minnie yapped and looked pointedly at Virgil. Remus looked at where Virgil was sitting curiously. “Virge? Issat you? Hold on, I’ve got a spirit box in my backpack. Then you can actually say if it’s you,” He said getting up and heading through a door in the back. Virgil watched Minnie curiously regard Virgil.

“What a good dog,” Virgil cooed and Minnie yapped excitedly and laid down next to Virgil.

“Where is he, girl?” Remus came out, holding an old portable radio. Minnie looked from Remus to Virgil and laid her head back down.

“Good girl!” Remus bent down to pet her and held out the spirit box. Virgil leaned forward to grab the box out of Remus’s hands. “Hey, Virge! At least I _hope_ that’s you,”

“It’s me,” Virgil replied with the spirit box and Minnie’s head popped up in confusion. “She’s a good dog,”

“She is!” Remus cooed and scratched behind her ears again. “It’s good to… well, I don’t see you but It’s good to see you again,” Remus said and stood back up to man the counter.

“The dogs see me. That was freaky,” Virgil replied.

“Some of them are still sniffing around where you were,” Remus chuckled. “Logan and Remy also have spirit boxes near them. Logan made a couple with the money from the sale of that hand gun. The thing was worth five hundo pawned, it must have been a nice one. We split the profits. Logan’s been making little things for you to interact with. Simple electronics with rechargeable batteries that should handle you touching them. He’s working on this box with little lights that he’s hoping you can use to show us pictures with. The wiring on it is really complex. He’s got a proof-of-concept little box that will just show a colored light he wants you to try,” Remus explained, sounding excited.

“No problem. That sounds bees-knees,” Ugh, him ever unironically saying that was painful. Remus laughed at it, though. “How are events with you?”

“Oh, pretty good now that you’re back. It’s much easier when you’re still here instead of gone,” Remus said mournfully.

“Sorry,” The box sang for Virgil.

“No, no, it’s nice to have you back. I wish I could hug you. Oh! Androids for ghosts! That’s a business venture,” Remus said brightly leaned against the counter.

“Ghosts don’t have cash. We just own a creeping gray world that is equally as dead as us and a lifetime of pained memories,” Virgil said through the box, but groaned and sighed in annoyance.

“There’s a ghost world? Is it awesome like in _Danny Phantom_?” Remus looked down the ghost box with piqued interest.

“It’s like this one but dead and blank,” Virgil replied with the box. “Humans are just light puddles. Groupings. Ah! Energy mass,” God damn this thing. Blobs and puddles are not synonyms, stupid fucking box.

“Oh, that sounds kind of cool,” Remus mused.

“Bleak is more love,” Virgil’s box said. Virgil scoffed at it and rolled his eyes. He swore this thing was trolling him. Maybe he needed to try harder or something. “It’s gray and fogged and empty feeling. I have to focus to stay up here with you,” Okay, he did better that time.

“Can you interact with things there?” Remus asked curiously.

“I have not tried. I don’t like it place,” Virgil admitted. Augh! Virgil was about ready to give up.

“Why don’t you try? If you go out where the dogs are I can watch you, kinda,” Remus suggested. Virgil raised his eyebrows and shrugged. Virgil dropped his focus and the box clunked to the floor before all the sounds and colors faded from the world. Virgil stood up and shivered involuntarily. He didn’t like it here. He walked through the counter back onto the main floor. The dogs were also little masses of twinkling light rather than solid shapes. He couldn’t judge the size of the dog here, they were all roughly the same size. The Remus blob was much bigger than them, though.

Virgil hadn’t gotten a good look at the room when he arrived, but it sort of seemed like some things that were supposed to be there… weren’t? Maybe dogs moved them or something. There were little flap doors on the dog playscape that little bunchings of light would periodically walk right through. That seemed odd. He walked over and reached out for the hinged door flap. He could actually grab and move it, surprisingly. A bundle of light went right through the doors and him again and he was more confused if anything. Maybe it _was_ actually like _Danny Phantom_ where alive people couldn’t interact with the ghost world. That maybe meant that this was a certain version of the real world but not accurate.

Focusing on seeing things normally again, the colors and sounds faded back and another wad of dogs came yapping at him angrily. He tried to reach for the doors and couldn’t move them this time other than a slight push. They were plastic, after all. He looked around and there were definitely things here that weren’t in the dead version. Whatever the pattern was- if there was one at all- was completely lost on Virgil. He walked over and sat up on the counter, still being followed and barked at by dogs.

“Shut up,” Virgil said in annoyance. Some of them did actually back off. “Stop barking,” Virgil intoned and they all stopped, some even ran off and cowered. Whoops. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Virgil apologized and crawled back behind the counter and floated down, sitting on the floor and holding the ghost box again.

“I spooked them,” Virgil said with the ghostbox.

“No kidding you spooped them,” Remus laughed. “How was the dead world? You’ve been gone nearly a half hour,”

“Only been a few minutes for me,” The box said. “Time is strange in the ghost zone,” Virgil’s gut churned oddly. This was the strongest he’d felt anything since he last electrocuted himself. It almost felt like he was about to have a panic attack. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he could see Remus saying something but couldn’t make it out. There was some kind of loud staticky noise.

Virgil blinked away from the spot he was in and suddenly reappeared where he died. He stood in confusion for a moment and watched people entering the house. Zi-his-Zi-no- ** _his house_**. **His house. His house.** The awful churning and clenching sensation in him got worse as he watched people in biohazard suits coming into the living room. They were in _his house_.

“Some wild animal fucked this place up, huh,” One of the guys in a biohazard suit said, kicking the broken box that held Virgil’s keys and wallet before.

“Sheesh, no kidding,” The other said while they were looking around at the wreckage he and his friends left.

“Get. The fuck. Out. Of. _My_ House,” Virgil said angrily, yanking at a metal clasp on one of the suits and dragging them towards the door.

“Jeff, where the hell do you think you’re going?” Another one called back from the living room as Virgil pulled them right out the front door and tossed him inauspiciously into the lawn. The man shrieked and landed with a thud in the grass.

“Are you people fucking _dense_?” Virgil screamed, and the lights jumped on and a bulb burst above him in the front hall. He angrily stomped over to a socket and powered up with a scream, only stopping when the breaker flipped. He could almost see the light blobs in people now and there was a charged feeling in his entire body. “ _Get out_!” He screeched, more demonic than human, and the lights wildly flickered on and off around the entire house. The man in the biohazard suit was frozen into place. Virgil growled and grabbed the metal clasp on the guy without even getting close to him, launching him out the door. The door slammed behind him and the lock twisted shut. Virgil growled and appeared out on the lawn, floating just above it.

“Leave! Leave now and don’t come back!” Virgil pointed at the car in the driveway while he screamed his demands at them. The first man in the lawn backed away from Virgil. Virgil dropped down to the lawn and walked closer to him and he scrambled up to his feet with a scream and bolted towards the car. The other man followed right behind him and he wasn’t fully even in the car when the first one started backing out of the driveway. Virgil hissed loudly at them and the car radio blared music at max volume as it scanned stations while they pulled out and sped off. He glared at the street for a moment and he had a strange swimming sensation as he came back to sense.

He blinked meaninglessly a few times, trying to process what happened. He rubbed his head and shook it. He hopped on the grass a few times, too, just for good measure. He was… _his house_. Virgil rubbed his face again He looked down at his hands. He… well. It was pretty obvious. Virgil closed his eyes and reappeared sitting on the floor at the dog place Remus worked at.

“Virgey? Virge is the word? …Where the hell did he go?” Remus ran his hand through his hair. Virgil didn’t have to touch the box anymore to use it.

“Hey. So as it turns out, I _am_ a poltergeist,” Virgil said through the box, his own voice sounding through the static instead of peace-mealed together through other people’s words over the radio waves. Remus just stared as the radio lifted itself up onto the counter.

“Virge? You can’t just disappear while we’re talking…” Remus trailed off and his eyes widened. “Holy shit that was your actual voice!” He shouted and some dogs barked in protest. “That was _you_!” Remus grabbed his head and looked panicked. “ _Explain_?” He just said desperately, slumping against the counter.

“Some cleaning crew came into Zi-” A demonic hiss broke through the static as he fought with himself. “ _My house_ ,” The radio snarled and Virgil tried to steady himself. “Sorry. _My_ house. And… well. They probably shat their biohazard suits,” Virgil explained. “I'm definitely a poltergeist. I’m dangerous.”

“You think I give a shit? You think any of us do?” Remus asked incredulously. “We’ll… keep some salt around or something. That got you out of Patton, right? We can just… throw some at you if you get too… poltergeist-y. You’ve been fine up until now. Maybe you just can’t handle intruders at Zi-” A gravely demonic hiss broke through the radio static again. “Your. Your house,” Remus corrected himself, looking afraid for possibly the first time Virgil had ever seen in his life. Well, life _and_ death.

“Sorry,” Virgil said quietly and was echoed through the radio on the counter.

“It’s like… a trigger, right? But instead of panic attacks you… go demonic. So it’s _your_ house and you protect it and we all respect that,” Remus said carefully. “I mean, it’s kind of badass, honestly,” He said, much more brightly than a moment ago. “What’d you do? I wanna know!”

“I… removed them from the premises. I dragged the first one out and threw the other one. I wasn’t… fully in control,” Virgil said weakly. “I mean I still have panic triggers, though,” Virgil chuckled weakly, and it sounded wrong coming through the radio. Definitely demented.

“Okay,” Remus drawled, staring at the radio. “That was creepy. But I mean _you’re_ creepy, so that’s appropriate. Still cool as fuck,” Remus shrugged. “I’ll text everybody to let them know that it’s your house… and to keep little baggies of salt around,” Remus said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone.

“Oh, does… do Pat and Ro believe I’m a ghost, well technically a _kind_ of ghost yet?” Virgil asked weakly.

“Oh, um, no. Pat’s still kinda _coo-coo for cocoa puffs_ and Roman thinks he was dreaming,” Remus said awkwardly. “At least that was the case the last time I texted Remy. It’s been a few days. They’re both still going to work and functioning for the most part according to him, though, but Patton cry-laughs sometimes and Roman is still completely crushed,”

“Yeah, I saw Ro at work. He looks… sad. I went there first to watch him rehearse. I didn’t want to bother you guys at work,” Virgil explained.

“Eh, I just wash, train, and watch dogs. I don’t mind chatting with you. It’s not exactly mentally taxing. You’d probably distract Lo, though. He hates people talking to him while he’s working. Throws off all the mental calculations or something,” Remus shrugged. “Though, I don’t want to get in trouble with my boss while he’s in, so if somebody else is here maybe stay quiet. Not like silent, but literally quiet. Can you whisper?” Remus asked. Virgil wasn’t really sure. He tried to whisper through the spirit box, but some horrific muttered overlapped whispering noises came through, as if they were summoning a demon in a horror movie or something. “Okay,” Remus intoned. “Maybe don’t do that or they’ll burn down the building,” He laughed boisterously.

“I don’t think I can whisper then,” Virgil laughed, and once again it sounded horrific through the radio and scared all the dogs again. Remus just seemed amused by it, though. “You can probably also just turn down the radio though,” Remus raised his eyebrows and turned down the volume knob. “Biscuits,” Virgil said, but it came out at the same volume before. “Okay, so I have no idea how the fuck I work and that scares me a little,” Virgil admitted.

“Eh, we’ll figure it out,” Remus waved his hand. “I mean you’re here and not rotting in the ground, spooky spook powers are a bonus at this point,”

“Not if I can’t control them and hurt you, fuckhead,” Virgil groaned in annoyance, static adding gravel to his voice through the spirit box. “Also, I was cremated by Remy so I wouldn’t be rotting,” Virgil added.

“Oh, you woke up at your urn, right?” Remus asked with interest.

“Yeah, you called it. I guess if I ever go off the ghost deep end you can dump salt in my ashes or spread them or something,” Virgil shrugged and leaned his head against the wall.

“Over my dead body, I’m keeping my polterbuddy,” Remus said sourly.

“No, it’s over _my_ dead body,” Virgil snarked back and Remus rolled his eyes at the joke that was probably in very bad taste. But Virgil was allowed to joke about his own death. “Where’d Minnie go? She was the only one who didn’t bark at me,” Virgil asked.

“Oh, she’s napping in the sun. Minnie’s pretty old, she mostly just sleeps and looks sad until you pet her. Remy says you earned that house and fuck that guy, by the way,” Remus replied, leaning back on the counter and looking pretty contented, honestly. Virgil tried to object that Zillah paid for it, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. In fact, the box made a demonic crackling noise and pain shot through him just for thinking it, setting off the dogs once again. His house. _His house_. **_His house_**. Virgil squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep, meaningless breath.

“Thanks,” Virgil managed to say normally. Well, as normally as talking through static noises on a spirit box could be. Remus looked a little concerned at the box for a moment, but seemed to shake it off easily. “You… you’re really okay with all this… maybe might try to kill you thing?” Virgil asked carefully.

“Eh, you won’t kill me,” Remus waved him off.

“I didn’t think I could have killed Zi, but _here we are_ ,” Virgil quipped dryly.

“Yeah, I wasn’t torturing you on the daily, buddy. Extenuating circumstances,” Remus shrugged. Virgil tasted blood. Why did he taste blood? He didn’t taste _anything_. He licked his hand and blood came off in a forked pattern. Like his tongue was sliced into halves.

“Fair, maybe,” Virgil said nervously. He wasn’t sure why it was happening, but it’s not like it hurt or anything. It was just kind of unsettling. Virgil pulled down his sleeves for a moment and the wounds on his arms weren’t open or anything.

“Is something wrong?” Remus asked, looking over to the box with concern again.

“No, it’s fine. Being dead is just weird, I guess,” Virgil said dismissively.

“I bet it is. Was there a light or anything like people talk about?” Remus asked curiously.

“No. I just woke up and realized I didn’t hurt as much as I should have. I’m probably a special case, though,” Virgil said with an invisible shrug.

“Were you in a lot of pain?” Remus furrowed his eyebrows and gritted his teeth, but his expression didn’t much match his tone.

“I think I must have been considering I died a gruesome enough death to be a poltergeist,” Virgil said tonelessly. He was tortured for hours and all. “Honestly, I was running on pure adrenaline and malice. I stopped feeling the pain too closely hours before then. I came back here and there after the floor show, but I was mostly gone. I may as well have died up there on the stage,” Virgil said blithely. Remus flinched at that. “I hope you didn’t take that the wrong way,” Virgil added nervously.

“I… really should have done something. Pulled you away while he wasn’t looking. Taken you home that night. I don’t know,” Remus said quietly.

“Yeah, and have me attacking myself when I’m violently depressed about the whole thing? The odds of that ending okay were slim to none, Ream,” Virgil narrowed his eyes and his voice through the box had picked up that gravely tone again. “Don’t blame yourself for how things went down. I killed the fucker. I killed-killed- _kill_ ” Virgil caught himself and held on tightly to his arms, trying to focus again while the dogs went wild.

“Um, Virge?” Remus said quietly.

“Sorry. He… got his just desserts. It’s not your fault. Who’s to say he wouldn’t have just tracked me down and shot you with that pistol you hocked?” Virgil steadied himself with hands gripped tight to his arms, though he couldn’t feel the comforting pressure. The motion alone was familiar and stabilizing, though. “I was already a casualty when I fell in love with him, and you couldn’t have stopped that either,”

“How would he have tracked you down?” Remus asked, starting to sound angry.

“I was branded before, did you know that? I’ve got a fucking brand on my ass. Because I was out with Toby and he was too drunk to drive me home and the busses stopped running. So I couldn’t go home on time. He tracked me down. I don’t _know_ how he did. It was my punishment for staying out without permission, even on accident. I was with other men, so it was even worse than that. There was a ginger butt plug and ice involved and I was chained up in the shower for a reason,” Virgil said bitterly. “I still don’t like the searing sound, even in death,” Remus’s eyes were wide, and he swallowed. “I can’t impress on you enough that things wouldn’t have gone down well if you tried that,”

“Holy fucking shit, what was wrong with him?” Remus said in a quiet voice.

“I wish I fucking knew!” The voice shot out of the box angrily and warbled, crackling and spooking the dogs into barking again.

“So that’s why you suddenly stopped hanging out with Toby?” Remus whispered.

“Zi said I couldn’t anymore,” Virgil admitted. “Not even a text. He was convinced Toby was trying to steal me away or something,”

“Honestly, I just thought you’d drifted apart,” Remus admitted.

“Well, we certainly have now, it’s been a few months since Zi blocked him on my phone and social,” Virgil said bitterly. “He tried to reach out on Tumblr once, I think through a new blog, but I freaked out and deleted the message and blocked him myself. I was scared of Zi finding out and punishing me for being disloyal. Well, I can unblock him now. Is it upsetting to talk to someone who is dead?” Virgil asked curiously.

“Not to me! I’m pretty weird, though.” Remus shrugged. “Hey with your ghostly… clarity powers… How long…,” Remus trailed off again. “Maybe I shouldn’t ask,”

“Oh, just out with it,” Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Well, he eased you into the horrible shit, right? How long was he… really bad?” Remus asked, swallowing.

“If I tell you, you’re just going to torture yourself with it. Why would I do that to you?” Virgil groaned and the box made an odd clicking noise.

“Because I’m going to torture myself with it either way,” Remus crossed his arms. “Where are you so I can look at you pointedly?” Virgil laughed, and Remus jumped at the noise that came out of the box. He let himself float upwards, and the dogs started barking at him, so he sank back down. Remus watched them and followed their eye lines to angle his head to stare at Virgil. “Am I doing it?”

“Yup, very threatening, staring at a poltergeist you can’t even hurt,” Virgil laughed again, and the box sizzled with demented laughter. “You got a bell? I can put it around my neck,” Virgil offered, sounding amused. Remus looked intrigued and dug around under the counter. He opened up a lockbox and pulled up a jingle bell the size of a dime and threw it at Virgil. Virgil caught it and chuckled airily- though it sounded like he was haunting a hotel or something through the ghost box- and he placed it at his neck and just held it there just like he would as if it were between his fingers. “There, now you can see me. Almost,” Virgil said with bemusement.

“Great, now I can stare you down until you tell me,” Remus said.

“Seconds ago you weren’t sure you should even ask, dude,” Virgil rolled his eyes. “You do know I can just possess your ass, right?”

“I mean, I do want to be possessed, but maybe not while I have shit to do,” Remus chuckled. “But, seriously. I’m going to assume the worst,”

“Assuming the worst isn’t inaccurate for that whole ass relationship. But I also don’t have a great idea of what… ‘really bad’ means. Like where’s the bar? I can assume anything that gives me a panic attack to think about is ‘really bad’ but like, I don’t really know where you draw the line. I’m kind of terrible with knowing the line is in general, as evidenced by being dead and all,” Virgil said flippantly.

“I can think of some sick shit and he continues to surprise me. What was it like when you first started doing TPE 24/7?” Remus asked.

“Fine,” Virgil shrugged and Remus raised his eyebrow at Virgil. “I wasn’t being tortured or anything. I can’t say I like everything that he wanted, but I thought it was expected of me and didn’t want to fuck up. But he was still sweet and kind and still bought me thoughtful gifts and took me on dates and stuff. He had this… well, I know I was being gaslit and all now, but had this way of making me think it was my fault and that things would be better if I just tried harder. I never lost hope. Ever. And early on in the TPE it was just basic training and postures and commands and he eased me into everything. Honestly, I had relinquished control for so long it feels kind of weird to have control again. Everything was so slow and easy to slip into,” Virgil sighed and curled up on the floor. “You know he was really sweet when he wanted to be. And he was so handsome. And he made me feel special. The sex was great, assuming he wasn’t being a vicious asshole during it,”

“Careful Virge, you sound like you still love the guy that killed you,” Remus narrowed his eyes at Virgil. “Are you lying down?”

“Yeah, I’m lying down. What’s it to you? And what’s it to you if I still love him? I k-” Virgil cut himself off before he said it, in case it set him off again. “He got what he deserved from me already,”

“Because it’s fucking sad. To both of them,” Remus said weakly. “Logan said he thought you were groomed and stuff and it sort of sounds like you were, but I just don’t get it,”

“My life-well, death- is sad. And everybody wants to say they know better than to end up in an abusive relationship, don’t they? That they don’t get why someone wouldn’t just leave them? If that was true then how would abusers keep getting away with it since the dawn of man?” Virgil said bitterly.

“Hey, I’m not implying that you were an idiot or weren’t a victim or anything. I just don’t know how you could love a guy who literally killed you,” Remus raised his hands defensively.

“See, this is this thing again where I don’t know where the line is. But it’s the same, isn’t it? How could I love a guy who carved things into me? Branded me? Deprived me? Isolated me? Abused me? Broke my ankle? Tortured me? Liked to push me to my limits in every sense until I literally couldn’t function anymore? Is killing me really all that different?” Virgil said weakly, drumming his fingers on the floor. He looked down and saw a puddle of blood. Well, non-existent ghost blood. Virgil stuck his hand in it and looked at it pressed into his see-through fingertips. Being dead was weird. A puddle of blood wasn’t exactly a rare thing for Virgil, but it just felt mundane in death.

“You said that was a hiking accident,” Remus gripped the desk in front of him.

“It was him. He was hitting me and got too close to somewhere with a bone. He was normally very careful about that. He was very apologetic about it after I saw a doctor,” Virgil said. “It was just a fracture,”

“He hit you hard enough to fracture a bone, Virgil, there’s no ‘just’,” Remus hissed.

“Yeah, well, my point stands. I don’t forgive him. If ghost-him was here, I’d demand answers. But part of me still loves him. Love is a chemical reaction, right? Isn’t it weird that I can still feel it?” Virgil mused and rolled on to his back, laying flat on the floor. The pool of blood was getting bigger, and he didn’t like looking at it.

“Logan would agree, probably. It is weird. Maybe carrying over human attachments is normal, though. Do you still feel emotions? I mean obviously you do, sorry, I mean the same way,” Remus rambled a little.

“It’s fine. Yeah, I do. I have some space between me and it now. Other than poltergeist anger, I guess. It literally hurts. More than recharging,” Virgil said.

“Recharging? You mean like when you take electrical current? That hurts?” Remus looked at Virgil sadly.

“Oh, like it’s at all surprising I would be blase about pain,” Virgil chuckled. “Yeah, it hurts. I don’t know if you’ve ever had your hand shoved in an electrical socket, but it’s pretty similar even in death,” Virgil flipped his hand in the air. Remus twitched angrily at that for a moment looking baffled.

“So you were plugged into a pain machine and talking to us? Seriously?” Remus rubbed his face.

“Honestly, you saw what he did. You think I care? At all?” Virgil sighed, and he watched a puff of air raise up this time.

“Oh, that was cool,” Remus said, in awe. “But maybe you should care about pain?” Remus drummed his fingers against the counter in frustration.

“Why? What’s it going to do? Kill me?” Virgil barked with laughter, pissing off the dogs. “You know, I think they might have been able to see me. The biohazard cleaners, I mean. They sure acted like they could after I started approaching them on the lawn. I wonder if that was home-field advantage or if it was the fact I took enough charge to blow the breaker in one go?”

“Don’t change the subject, you little- wait, seriously?” Remus paused mid angry rant.

“I didn’t change it, I had charged a ton before attacking them. It’s relevant. I wonder how strong I’d be if I went to a power-plant and took out a whole backup generator or something,” Virgil mused.

“You don’t know if that would double kill you, don’t take risks like that! I don’t want to have to lose you twice!” Remus shot angrily.

“Fine, fine, I won’t do that. What about a transformer?” Virgil asked curiously.

“Are you being polter-power hungry or are you getting ghost tired?” Remus asked suspiciously.

“Oh, like I’d know,” Virgil rolled his eyes. “I only just found out I was an evil demon. I think I could sap you of energy technically, but there’s a coffee chain nearby, and I’d love to go blow the power for the building as my first act of mild evil against a bigger evil,”

“Doesn’t scaring the shit out of the guys in your house count?” Remus looked amused.

“First conscious act, then,” Virgil chuckled and crossed his legs.

“Ghost vigilantism sounds like a great comic book genre,” Remus mused thoughtfully.

“I think it’s technically a ghost anti-hero action,” Virgil spun his finger in the air. “What’s my identity? I’ve got the tragic backstory already,” Virgil said humorously.

“I mean your main power is to spook, as a spook,” Remus mused, looking considerate.

“Fear?” Virgil asked.

“Nah, not enough punch. Paranoia,” Remus smiled down at him.

“I like Paranoia,” Virgil grinned back. “I’m gonna go eat lunch, be right back,” Virgil said.

“Hey!” Remus held out his hands. “Nothing that puts you at risk of not coming back to me. If it hurts too much, you _stop_ ,” Remus said seriously.

“I mean, what’s too much? I’m going to go _electrocute_ myself,” Virgil rolled his eyes and sat up.

“You’ll probably know or something. Ghost intuition? Just don’t push it, alright?” Remus pointed at him (or at least the bell) and had a determined expression.

“Fine, sure. I’m going to go get those employees paid time off,” Virgil smirked and disappeared on the spot. He hadn’t been in that coffee chain before, so he just appeared as close as he could visualize and walked over. He opened the door with the metal handle for himself. Just for fun.

“Welcome to-” The person at the counter paused, then leaned over the counter to check lower down. “Hello?” Virgil exhaled on the glass and it frosted over. He wrote ‘P★’ in the condensation and walked into the back, looking for the backup generator. He knew lots of chain coffee places had them so they could remain open. He figured he should charge from a restricted source to be ‘sensible’ and all that. It’s hard to fear death when you’re already dead. It hurts, sure, but what doesn’t? Being a ghost always kind of hurt.

Virgil looked around in the back and saw a closet with an electrocution warning symbol on it. Perfect. Virgil walked around a little more, looking for the manager on staff. He peered his head into a little room off to the side and found a man sitting at the desk. Seemed official enough to him. He went back over to the generator closet and walked in.

It wasn’t a particularly large generator. Things in movies always looked more imposing, maybe. Maybe that was a good thing, though. It seemed to be a diesel generator, so he hoped it wouldn’t set on fire or anything. Virgil put his hand inside of it and pushed his focus. His scream was bestial, warped, layered, and horrific. The lights shuttered and went out, and the mild electrical hum faded into silence. Virgil didn’t know what being hit by lightning felt like, but that was probably close. He could see the light blobs again through the walls.

The low-grade constant buzzing pain definitely hurt more than before, but it wasn’t anything Virgil couldn’t handle. The man in the office stood up from his desk. Virgil appeared next to him and stepped right in, overtaking him right away. Virgil, in the man’s body, walked out to the front where two bewildered-looking baristas were still standing behind the counters. He smiled at them and leaned against the counter.

“Hey, I want you to record me saying this,” Virgil said, reaching into the man’s pocket and pulling out a phone. It scanned his face and unlocked, and Virgil opened the camera app. The barista at the register looked confused, but they pulled out their phone either way. “You recording?” He asked, and the person nodded. Virgil started recording himself, as well. “Power’s out. We’re closing the store until it’s fixed. Everyone gets paid for the hours they were scheduled. It’s a safety violation to have people in here without power,” Virgil said. “Excuse me, everyone? With the power out, we need you to clear out of the building. We apologize for the inconvenience,” He called out and turned off the recording and the barista followed suit. “Hey, if there’s any food you want, start grabbing it now. I’m ignoring the throw-out policy today,” The baristas scrambled and grabbed bags, loading up some sandwiches and cakes for themselves. Virgil snapped on a pair of gloves. “For the inconvenience, if you see any food in the case you would like, please let me know,” Virgil called out and the people in the store looked intrigued instead of pissed off.

The employees took full meals for themselves and used their phone flashlights to go in the back while Virgil served out all the food. He put aside a lemon cake for Remus, a little worried about taking chocolate over to a dog store. He also got a ham sandwich for him. Between all of them, they cleared out the whole cabinet and a few gallons of milk and milk substitutes that would have gone bad. He made sure everyone had left the building before picking up Remus’s new lunch.

Virgil walked the bag of things over for Remus without opening the man’s eyes. He could still see the ghost Version of the world with the human eyes closed. He stumbled over a few things, but placed the bag on the counter and waved before walking the man back into the store and holding his keys for the guy to lock up. There were way too many keys for Virgil to bother trying them all and he kept getting jumps of static off metal things. He didn’t want to shock the dude.

Virgil reappeared on the floor of the doggy daycare and put his bell back on and felt very satisfied. The lights in Remus danced around while he curiously stared at the bag.

“I grabbed you lunch,” Virgil said and Remus jumped in surprised.

“Virgey!” He cheered, and some dogs barked.

“I mean it’s shitty chain store food, but hey, free food,” Virgil shrugged.

“That was _you_?”

“I took over the manager dude to make sure the employees got paid. There’s a video on a barista’s phone and his own of him saying it. So if he can’t remember what happened, he’s still accountable. No managerial bonuses this month!” Virgil cackled and the spirit box made a chattering noise almost like a cicada along with the demented laughter, pissing off the dogs.

“Very nice!” Remus said excitedly. “Lemme put this in the back before the dogs get wind of what’s in here,” Remus said and quickly grabbed the bag and went into a back room. Virgil tossed the bell around by the small metal ball on the inside, making it move silently through the air. He glanced through the counter and watched the little light masses run around while Remus came back. “So you’re… all good?”

“Yup,” Virgil said airily. “Bored, maybe, but I don’t feel at any sort of risk, if that’s what you’re asking,” Virgil shot up suddenly. “Oh, my gosh, I can become a graffiti artist! They could never stop me!” Virgil laughed maniacally. “I’ll need to rob a craft store later,”

“The little plunger on the top of the can is plastic, buddy,” Remus chuckled as he walked around the counter. It sort of looked like he might be sitting on the floor and maybe playing with or petting the dogs from what the light blobs were doing.

“Shit,” Virgil grumbled, snapping. “Oh, a thimble!”

“There we go!” Remus said cheerily. “Can you fly and stuff?”

“Well, I can float. I haven’t quite figured out flying yet. Gravity and being able to lean against walls and stuff I think is mostly just a habit. I think it’s more about fighting the habit than anything else. That’s what I had to do to float. Anyway, I’m full of charge, can you see me?” Virgil asked.

“I didn’t see you earlier, float up so I can check again,” Remus said. Virgil put the bell back at his neck and floated above the counter. The dogs started barking, but Remus just shook his head. Virgil disappeared down to the floor, catching the bell that fell and playing with it again. “Well, I guess it’s either only at your house or something else was happening,” Remus said curiously.

“I suppose so. I’m wearing the jacket you picked out for me, by the way. I like it. I can wear whatever, I think,” Virgil said, making a bracelet appear on his wrist. “Yeah, I can,”

“Can you turn into a dragon or something?” Remus asked curiously. Virgil closed his eyes and pictured himself as a dragon and forced the idea out. He opened his eyes, and it was still just him. He pulled down his sleeve and tried to at least make the scars disappear and they remained, too.

“Nope, I don’t think I can. I blew a generator, I should have enough energy but I can’t even take the scars off my skin,” Virgil said.

“So you’re stuck with all the marks he left?” Remus said sourly.

“Yeah, guess so. Sometimes they bleed, too. Well, as much as a ghost can bleed,” Virgil said warily.

“You’re not bleeding right now, are you?” Remus asked.

“Um… I don’t see any blood,” Virgil said, examining the surrounding area. “I don’t feel it. It’s probably just a ghost thing,” Virgil shrugged.

“Brutal,” Remus said darkly.

“No kidding. You mind if I go say hi to Remy? I haven’t told him I’m back yet. He should be off work by now. He usually works the morning shift,” Virgil said, chucking the bell in the air again.

“Sure. Meet me at my apartment later, I did something cool I wanna show you,” Remus said cheerily.

“Nice, will do,” Virgil said and put the bell up on the counter. He focused on his brother’s apartment and reappeared there. He looked around and didn’t see any blobs of shimmery light anywhere. At least not in this apartment. It looked like some neighbors were home. Also some pets, maybe.

Virgil grabbed Remy’s laptop and put it on the floor, still connected to the charger, and opened it up. He had to be very careful not to fry the thing accidentally, but he loaded up his Myspace page just for fun and started making various ghost posts. Just strange things and observations and complaining. Honestly, people would just assume he was role-playing or something, but he didn’t really care. It’s not like Myspace was active or anything.

Something tugged at him, though. He hadn’t used his Myspace page in a while. Zi wouldn’t let him use it anymore because he sometimes got messages from other emos who also hadn’t abandoned ship. It was almost like the memory was pulling at him despite fighting it. He wasn’t sure if using it was just too nostalgic or something, but he had to struggle to stay in the present. He was positive if he let himself slip, he’d be watching himself get punished.

Virgil logged out of Myspace and went to go watch videos on YouTube instead, careful about touching the laptop, since holding his focus was hard. He just let videos autoplay as he watched various conspiracy theories, trying to distract himself. He flickered into it for a moment with a quick flash of him on the steel cross, but managed to pull himself back out. The front door closed loudly and there was a clatter of keys on the table.

“Hey babe,” Remy waved to the urn as he passed it towards his bedroom.

“Hey,” Virgil responded and sat up, summoning himself a fidget cube to mess with while he watched the video. Remy froze as he walked over and slowly turned around to face the ghost box.

“V?” Remy looked at it incredulously. “That’s… you?”

“Yeah. It’s me. How’re you?” Virgil asked, sort of hoping for a patented Remy Rant™ to distract him better than this video.

“That’s your actual voice. And the radio isn’t scanning randomly between stations while you’re talking like in videos,”

“I just turn it off and on. Other ghosts are lazy or something,” Virgil explained with a small shrug. “The actual voice thing… well, you got Remus’s text, right?” He asked sheepishly.

“Yeah, fucking cryptic much?” Remy groaned and turned around to scan the room. His eyes caught his laptop open on the floor and looked over there. “It is totes your house, no question,” Virgil twitched and the light in the kitchen flickered on. He took a deep breath and tried not to poltergeist out about it.

“Yeah, I probably am dangerous,” Virgil muttered.

“We’ll get some salt bags and shit, it’s whatever. Nice to have you back haunting the land of the living. I’ll call the police and set up an appointment for you to set your records straight in a minute. I want to use that money to buy out the coffee shop from that prick who owns it,” Remy grumbled.

“I mean I knew Roman would share with you, but you think he’s going to give you the whole 75k?”

“Money talks. Having money lets you get loans and shit. You could sell your art there and help out,” Remy winked.

“Oh, I’m helping you with your spite purchases, now?” Virgil said snarkily.

“What? What do you need money for? There’s plenty in your account to keep up your phone. I know you like sharing your art, nerd, you’d want to sell it anyway,” Remy laughed. Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Fine, valid, whatever. Go change and call Mr. Thinks-I-killed-myself so I can just hop in his body and change the files or something. This thing is going autoplay some trashfire about reused pizza and I’m scared of frying your laptop so I’m going to watch it and while I try to figure out if I can haunt the guy from that one ghost show,” Virgil said, waving his hand at Remy.

“Bitch, you better not fry my laptop,” Remy narrowed his eyes at Virgil.

“I’m not going to touch it!” Virgil said sourly, clicking at his fidget cube.

Virgil managed to stay present and watched the video that made him cringe. What was wrong with this guy? Virgil sighed and clicked at the buttons on his fidget cube. Virgil wondered if he could play video games. Virgil was pressing the little metal springs to depress the keys on the keyboard and controllers were similar. The joystick was the real question. Maybe he needed thimbles with a rubber coating or something for them. Remy finally came back out and Virgil sighed in relief, quickly floating up and leaning against him.

“Jesus, you’re cold, give a girl some warning,” Remy hissed.

“Sorry. Trying not to relive stuff. I heard hugs were good for that once,” Virgil said through the spirit box.

“I’ll hold out my arms,” Remy said and held them up as if he were hugging and Virgil shifted in. It wasn’t the same. But whatever. The thought was nice.

“Thanks,” Virgil said and Remy dropped his arms and headed over to the couch, flopping down onto it with a small huff.

“He’s willing to meet with me, but only because I yelled at him. Technically Roman needs to be there because I’m not related or whatever, but I’ll make him come. Roman’s rehearsal gets off at 4 and the guy is willing to meet at 5,” Remy said warily and threw the blanket on the back of the couch over himself and put up his legs on the table, stretching out his arms over the back of the couch. “I normally nap after work, but I’ll put out a movie to space out if you want to join me,” Remy said with a little yawn. “Gimme the remote,” He added, and Virgil sent it flying over to him while he came over to the couch and laid down with his head on Remy’s lap. It was really nice of him. “Thanks, babe,” Remy yawned again and clicked around, picking a romantic comedy and settling into the couch, flopping his head back and closing his eyes.

“Really? A teen rom-com?” Virgil asked derisively.

“Eh, if I fall asleep I’ll still understand what’s happening when I wake up,” Remy shrugged slightly. “Pat won’t get back from training today until late, they have a game coming up. It’s my turn to make dinner so if you wanna do it for me I’m game,” Remy chuckled.

“You’ll have to pull things out for me. I can only consistently hold metal,” Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Sure, whatever. Metal, huh? Spaghetti or something, then, so you don’t scratch the nonstick stuff,” Remy shrugged. “I think we have Italian sausage in the fridge for meat sauce,”

“Bitchin’,” Virgil yawned with Remy. He didn’t feel exhausted or anything, Remy’s yawning was just pulling those habits out of him again.

Virgil watched the children fail at communication for a little bit, and Remy’s breathing eventually evened out as he fell asleep. Ghost world time was weird and if he fell asleep, he might not be present to possess whoever he needed to to fix his records, so Virgil fought the urge to nap. He wanted to, laying here with one of his best friends in something casual and domestically affectionate. It was nice and something he didn’t get much in life. He’d love it if Remy could just reach down and pet his hair or something. But Virgil could only lay on his lap because of his gravity habit and he wasn’t really there with them. It was something hard to be faced with.

He wished so badly he had moved in with his brother instead of with Zi, so he could have had this in real life. Virgil felt like he owed Remy something just for doing this, but he had enough distance from the feeling that he realized that being cared for wasn’t transactional. Remy did it because he liked Virgil, not because he was trying to lull Virgil into some false sense of comfort and security before the next terrible thing.

It was really strange how distance made everything feel so obvious. But that wasn’t even Virgil anymore. It was literally another person. That Virgil died. And the current Virgil saw everything from the side instead of from within. And Virgil could see how much he was manipulated for so long, and it was hard to deal with.

A very loud part of him longed for more vengeance, more action, more pain. He didn’t know if that was from the remaining parts of the dead Virgil or this new thing he was. He felt like he deserved more action and retribution. It made sense to him. Hurting other people still made him nervous. He didn’t mind scaring people. He never did. But actually hurting them still was something he didn’t want. He could feel okay about that. But he wasn’t sure how well he’d do.

Things had a way of never coming easy to Virgil, and this was a whole new circumstance to navigate and try to adapt to. How to keep himself whole when he was broken and demonic. How to keep the suffering down when the slighting inklings could lead him down a path he didn’t want to go. This would be hard.

The TV flickered and static burst from the speakers as Virgil exhaled in annoyance, waking up Remy. He looked around the room in confusion before looking down to his lap.

“Is everything okay, babe?” Remy asked with concern and stiffed a small yawn.

“Yeah. Just frustrated. Make sure you keep that bag of salt with you,” Virgil sighed and a puff of frosty air rose.

“Whatever makes you comfortable, babe. I don’t think you’ll hurt me. You’ve been doing nothing but protect us for years,” Remy smirked down at Virgil. Virgil softly smiled back, aware Remy couldn’t see him but feeling consoled nonetheless.

“Oh god, is it a love triangle? I don’t recognize this guy she’s blushing at,” Remy grunted and motioned to the screen.

“Yeah, this was the guy she liked first but then the other guy she was fake dating or something, and then teen drama bullshit and now she likes the fake dating guy, too,” Virgil explained.

“Oh my god,” Remy groaned in frustration. “She’s gonna end up with the fake dating guy. This thing is trope central,”

“You picked it, idiot,” Virgil chuckled and Remy stiffened at the demonic cackle that came through the box.

“That… was a thing you do,” Remy blinked slowly and slowly looked to the box.

“Sorry, laughter comes out sort of haunted. So do whispers and me freaking out,” Virgil sighed.

“Creepy! When I own the coffee shop, you can be a tourist attraction just by watching meme videos,” Remy laughed.

“Oh yeah, monetize my daily horror,” Virgil said sarcastically and rolled his eyes.

“Capitalism, baby,” Remy shrugged. “I know that any meme with _Linkin Park_ music will make you laugh,” Remy said smugly.

“You know, playing memes on the TV at the coffee shop wouldn’t hurt, your target demo is people who like memes since older people are going to places with shittier coffee,” Virgil mused.

“Fair. We do have a pretty young demographic. Maybe you could haunt the nearby coffee chain and drive up business for me when I buy the shop,” Remy laughed darkly.

“Oh, I’d be happy to oblige,” Virgil laughed sinisterly and Remy stiffened at the demonic laughter again.

“You’re a little ghost-crazy, huh?” Remy asked curiously.

“Probably,” Virgil shrugged. “Thus the salt. I don’t know if I have a limited amount of sanity or anything,” Virgil said seriously.

“Mood,” Remy yawned again. “Wake me when she breaks his heart,” He said tiredly and leaned back against the couch again, closing his eyes and passing out again quickly. Virgil was a little jealous of Remy’s ability to sleep, but that probably came with being dead. He continued to watch the drivel on TV and rested against Remy’s lap.

Remy had gone through another teen romantic comedy, mostly sleeping while Virgil chilled on Remy’s lap. He summoned himself some popcorn just for the sake of it to chew on while he watched. Virgil regretted all the calories he counted while he was already being denied food. He should have eaten another twelve of those dirt & worms cups Remus found. It was just another thing Zi tricked him into doing. Some part of him knew he wasn’t fat and wouldn’t get fat from an extra pudding, probably. But he was just trying to look how Zi wanted. Small, vulnerable, breakable.

Zi guilted him into no longer exercising, and Zi harassed him with snide comments if he ever ate fatty foods or got a second serving. It was just more training, though it was much more subtle than the various beatings he endured with negative reinforcement. Things might have gone differently if Zillah had realized Virgil picked up his exercise routine again. The few weeks he was at it wasn’t much time, but it was enough to feel strong again.

Part of him even wondered what would have happened if Virgil had just submitted and took the two hours in the cage quietly. He knew he wasn’t able to, being deathly terrified and unable to stop himself. Would he still be suffering with Zi? Would Remus and Logan manage to convince him to escape? And that Janus guy?

The cruel treatment Zi gave him set something off in Virgil, though. The harsh and painful realization that Zi didn’t love Virgil like Virgil loved Zi. Part of Virgil even regretted hurting and killing Zi. Most of him was extremely, devilishly, horribly sated by the knowledge. He nearly cackled again but didn’t want to wake Remy from his nap. Maybe he would have gone with his friends. Just cleared out his shit while Zi was at work. Maybe he could have stayed in Remus’s filth hole since Remus mostly stayed at Logan’s. He could have stayed on his brother’s couch when Remus needed his place. Not that he had the income to support himself, but it was better than literally being dead.

Virgil liked the idea of it, though. But he was probably much too damaged for that kind of pipe dream. Things wouldn’t be that easy. Virgil would panic and cry and freak out over little things. Probably start cutting again. Probably shouldn’t be left alone. Probably would have tried to kill himself because the person he thought was his soulmate hated him so much he locked him in a cage just because he wouldn’t order himself delivery.

Zi better not be his soulmate if reincarnation is a thing. If Virgil ever moved on or whatever he wouldn’t want to be tied to that fucker in another life. Virgil felt like he paid enough dues for every lifetime with him. Things never worked out that easily for him. Case in point, he heard the key in the front door turn and Roman come home. Roman hung up his jacket in the hall closet and smiled sadly to Remy sitting on the couch.

“Hello, darling,” Roman leaned against the wall and knocked softly on it.

“Huh? Virgil?” Remy shot up, looking around. Roman’s face had gone from crestfallen to heart shattered immediately.

“No, love, it’s me,” Roman said weakly and collapsed in the recliner.

“Hm? Oh, Ro. Welcome home. We gotta go see the detective soon so keep your shoes on,” Remy rubbed his eyes. “Virge, sit up,” He waved and Virgil shifted off his leg. It must have felt cold or something. It was nice of him to not want to go through Virgil’s head. Remy got up and went into the kitchen for a drink.

“Are you okay, Remy?” Roman asked solemnly.

“He’s okay-ish,” Virgil said weakly, and Roman’s face slowly turned towards the box. “Sorry,” He added through the spirit box and Roman froze and turned sheet white. That was impressive for someone with his level of tan.

“Virge, don’t scare your brother,” Remy groaned from the kitchen and put the water pitcher back in the fridge. Roman laughed nervously, clearly unable to process this.

“I apologized!” Virgil shot through the spirit box. “I don’t know what to say!” Roman kept laughing weakly and broke down into tears. “Shit! Remy!” Virgil looked desperately to Remy coming back from the kitchen. Remy leaned down and held Roman, who sobbed violently against his arm.

“I think it’s better if you don’t talk for a bit,” Remy said softly, shooting the spot Virgil was in a sad look. Virgil swallowed hard and nodded. He sat there, silently gripping his knees while Roman sobbed inconsolably into Remy’s arms. Seeing his brother hurt like that made his desire for vengeance worse. But Virgil was the one hurting Roman, and the many ways he could punish himself might make him gone for the important things he needed to do.

Roman eventually settled down and Remy sat in the giant chair squished against him, holding him close. Virgil tried to keep himself from freaking out or getting ghouly and scaring Roman worse, but it was hard. Sometimes the box would chatter slightly and he saw the kitchen light flicker once. Roman didn’t seem to notice with his eyes closed against Remy’s chest, at least.

“Are you ready to see the detective?” Remy asked softly after glancing up at the clock.

“Why do you want to see him again?” Roman asked bitterly, mumbling into the crook of Remy’s arm.

“We have to get Virgil’s paperwork changed from suicide or we can’t get his life insurance, remember?” Remy reminded him and stroked Roman’s hair.

“He _did_ kill himself, Remy! I don’t know what that bastard did to him to make him think it was his only out, but he did! It was a murder-suicide! My brother killed Zillah and then offed himself!” Roman shouted angrily, glaring at Remy.

“That’s not what happened,” Remy said consolingly.

“Oh, how the fuck do you know?” Roman growled and pulled back from Remy. Virgil flinched and shrank back from Roman, pulling up his legs on to the couch.

“Well, how do _you_ know?” Remy said, glaring right back at him.

“He sent us all his accounts and shit! You saw the texts! He sent us all the accounts and an apology! What the hell do you call that?” Roman asked, his volume raising each time.

“Bitch, don’t yell at me!” Remy shot. “I saw them, but we are able to ask the source!” Remy’s arm motioned to the spirit box. “Virgil, fucking tell him!”

“I… didn’t kill myself, it was… an accident,” Virgil croaked, and it came through the box staticky and distorted, but the weakness and sorrow came through clearly.

“I don’t know how you’re doing that, but it’s sick!” Roman glowered at Remy and pushed off of him, storming over to the other side of the room and holding himself.

“Virgil, tell him the whole fucking story. Something I couldn’t have possibly made up because you won’t even tell me!” Remy shouted at him and Virgil balled up in terror.

“No! I don’t want him to know!” Virgil shot angrily and the voice was low and gravely through the box, fighting his instincts to just submit.

“He was a fucking sex slave, Roman! Okay! Ripped that god damn band-aid off! Remus told me! Now that he knows your filthy little secret you may as well explain yourself!” Remy shouted bitterly and Virgil couldn’t contain himself. The lights flickered and the box shot static noises and dark muttered whispers and Zillah’s voice echoed in Virgil’s head. “Quit being a bitch and tell us!” Virgil flinched at the direct order and fought both the conflicting needs of submitting and attacking.

“Get… get some salt,” Virgil said through the box carefully and holding himself tight, trying not to go into position zero and give in.

“Fine! Then tell us! Tell Roman how you died quick so we can go see this stupid fucking detective and fix your record,” Remy shot up from the chair and went into the kitchen. The lights in the kitchen flickered above Remy while he reached into the spice cabinet and came back out, shaking the container aggressively at him. Don’t sub to Remy, Don’t sub to Remy…

“Telling him isn’t going to make a difference,” Virgil muttered, squeezing his eyes shut tight. He could still see the light blobs that made up Roman and Remy through his closed eyes.

“Well, I can’t have possibly somehow programmed a voice to tell a story I don’t know, can I?” Remy growled. “What, you want Roman crying forever and thinking his brother is gone? Fucking convince him!” Remy pointed to Roman, who was facing away from them and holding himself tight on the other side of the living room.

“No! Please, Ro, I’m here! I’m so sorry!” Virgil pleaded desperately.

“… Tell me,” Roman said softly. “Tell me what happened. Tell me you didn’t leave me of your own accord. Please. Tell me things Remy can’t possibly know,” Roman said weakly through unconstrained tears.

“When we were kids, you wet the bed on your fifth birthday because you were so excited and they wouldn’t let you out of your bedroom to use the restroom while they set up your surprise party,” Virgil offered weakly through the box.

“That’s kinda cute, actually,” Remy chuckled. “You’re still distracting from the point, Virgil. Did you kill yourself or not? Because you said you helped,” Remy said much more firmly, glaring at the couch. Virgil flinched and curled in on himself.

“Fine. I say this under protest. I guess you deserve to know,” Virgil sighed.

“You’re damn right we do!” Remy said intensely.

“Zi… I was his submissive. It’s… I took orders and punishments from him. We were dating at first, with just some BDSM. Google it. I used to cut… a lot. I liked the pain a long time ago. It worked for me. Zillah made things easy and nice. I didn’t want to cut anymore because he was hurting me safely, at least for a while, anyway. Then we did something called TPE. Total power exchange. It means I was _always_ his submissive. I did everything he asked and took every order and got permission for everything. He had been slowly isolating me. You know that. He punished me so hard that last time I went out with you. I was scared of seeing anyone else ever again. He convinced me to quit my job and things seemed okay. He was supporting me. He was nice. For Zillah, anyway…” Virgil swallowed, looking to Roman and Remy, who looked horrified. There was no turning back, though.

“I had been a good sub lately. I used to fight him on all the shit he used to do. Try to run. Try to fight back. I thought about leaving plenty of times when things started. I did for a long time until he tortured the fight out of me. It was easier to take the first punishment then to endure a second worse one. I thought it was normal for BDSM, and he lied to me about it. I believed him. I loved him so much. I loved him _so much_ ,” Virgil stifled a sob and the box crackled.

“He wanted to brag about my progress and we went to go do a public scene. That’s, uh, fancy words for showing off his submissive in this instance. See, when you’ve been hurt enough, there’s a line of reactions. You get an endorphin rush for the pain. But when it keeps coming, your body wants to shut down. Especially when you’ve been trained to believe that you can’t run, and it’s better to take it. And I shut down on that stage while he whipped me in front of a hundred people.

“Zi… Zi was a sick fuck, a _sick fuck_ ,” A screech broke out from the box and both Remy and Roman flinched. Virgil tasted blood again and swallowed hard, holding himself. “Sorry. When I shut down he liked to keep going and doing things that normally I couldn’t tolerate. He did it all night. I hadn’t eaten for two days beforehand. I had no water for hours before the show. Eventually, at four in the morning, he tossed me in the tub to sleep. I slept all day, which was reasonable for all the damage I got. But he woke me up and threw me in a cage,” Virgil kept going, as much as he hated it. He could see the blood dripping out of his mouth. “Are you sure you want me to keep going?” He asked carefully, wiping the blood off his chin.

“May… may as well finish it,” Remy swallowed, looking completely heart shattered. All the anger and fight washed out of him.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You guys know I’m claustrophobic. So I panicked, and I couldn’t quiet down and take my punishment. He opened the cage door to gag me for the night. And please remember I hadn’t eaten or drank anything at this point still. And I was bleeding. The damage from the night before opened back up. You know that X over my heart? It was one of them. And I tore my nails trying to break open the cage,” Virgil looked down at his hands, seeing his nails bleed and sighed again, holding his head for a moment. He sort of felt like he was vibrating.

“I… I tackled him. And beat the shit out of him. And stabbed him. Multiple times. And attacked him like the caged beast I was. You saw all that blood. I cut open my tongue to spit blood at him. I even cut my wrists in the moment, I just couldn’t fight the urge to cut. I wasn’t really there anymore. I was completely gone. The cuts alone wouldn’t have been enough to do the job. I’d given myself worse. He’d given me worse. Anwyay… he eventually shut down. But it wasn’t enough for that part of me that was there. Not after all that time. So I pushed him further until he started retaliating. I… tried to cage him in return for what he did to me. But I suppose I did weaken the clasps earlier or something, because he eventually broke out and nearly escaped. I got some cranial trauma along the way that I’m sure didn’t help.

“I knew he was going to kill me for what I did. I mean literally kill me. I had to end it before he did. So I stabbed that fucker _fucker_ FUCKER **FUCKER** ** _FUCKER_** -” The lights flashed and Virgil held his head and shook it, the box started wailing without him and Virgil curled in on himself, blood running down his arms and fingers and staining from under his shirt while he fought himself.

“Virge, holy shit-” Remy muttered. “Ro, Ro, turn around! Turn _the fuck_ around!” Remy screamed. Roman screamed in return and the screaming was too much, it was too much, he couldn’t- Virgil bit his bleeding tongue hard and started ripping at his hair, feeling blood run down his face.

“Stop, stop, please!” Virgil cried out and curled further into himself.

“Virgil!” Someone yelled, but he didn’t know who and it just layered over itself echoing on the box and he couldn’t breathe, but he was dead, he didn’t need to breathe, why couldn’t he breathe?!

“No! No, please, no, Zi! Anything please, stop!” Virgil cried out desperately, his claws sinking into his biceps as he held himself tight. He didn’t even know when he got claws but he knew he could feel it and it was so sharp and hot and he felt like he was burning and freezing at the same time.

He could feel it, all of it, the hunger, the pain, the wounds, the blood loss, the thirst, the exhaustion, he felt everything, and he screamed out. Virgil heard the ghost box on the shelf blow and finally the screaming and echoes stopped. He also felt something else. Something hot and wet and tight and holding him. He heard a beating heart and deep sobs between his own wracked breaths.

The heart beat grounded him despite its speed and erratic jumps. The heart beat was real. He didn’t feel like he was choking and the swelling pain slowly died down and the claws turned back into broken, sharp nails. He could still feel the heat from his own blood and tears, but he felt like he had a better handle on himself. Virgil slowly lifted his head and opened his eyes to see Roman clinging on to him and sobbing into his shoulder. Virgil blinked a few times, not sure what was happening. He rubbed the blood off his chin onto his hoodie sleeve and stared at Roman, having no idea how to process this.

“Can… can… are you…” Virgil couldn’t quite articulate the words from his mouth and there was no ghost box to play them. He looked over to Remy, feeling the fearful expression on his face, and Remy rushed off into his bedroom, returning with another ghost box a moment later.

“Don’t fry this one, it’s the only other one in the house,” Remy said seriously, though he still looked completely bewildered.

“Is he touching me? How is he touching me?” Virgil asked through the new ghost box. Virgil reached his hand around Roman and held him back, and he could actually touch him instead of just miming a hug. Virgil blinked slowly as Roman shifted closer to him and cried on his chest, the tears leaking straight through to the couch, but he really, actually had Roman in his arms and he was in Roman’s. “What the fuck is happening?”

“Fuck if I know!” Remy shot, holding up his arms. He put the box down on the table and sat down on the other side of Virgil, tentatively reaching out and touching Virgil’s shoulder. Remy looked shocked but quickly wrapped his arms around him without a second’s hesitation. Virgil blinked some more and his vision started to fade.

“Sshh-” Virgil bobbed and flickered for a moment “-iit,” Virgil slurred through the box, cracking. “Taze me,” Virgil managed to get out and Roman collapsed on the couch and Remy’s arm fell through him. Remy shot up quickly and grabbed the taser off the mantle, firing right into the center of Virgil’s chest, above where Roman was collapsed onto the couch. It took him a millisecond to focus on it, and another ghostly wail broke through the box as he screamed out.

“What the fuck was that?” Remy asked, looking wide-eyed at Virgil.

“Nearly… faded there,” Virgil sighed. “One sec,” Virgil sighed and closed his eyes, appearing on a power pole next to the highway. He was sure this was a terrible plan, but he put his hand on the exposed metal and pushed. It wasn’t worse than the generator, but it was definitely lightning strike painful. He could almost feel his bones again for a moment, it was so sharp and intense. His scream ringed in his ear for a moment before reappearing back next to Remy in the living room.

“Virgil?” Remy asked curiously, sounding panicked.

“Had to charge,” Virgil exhaled a puff of cold air and walked over to collapse on the couch again, feeling emotionally drained and exhausted despite the buzzing that fluttered through his being. “Don’t we have that… detective thing,” Virgil flipped his hand in the air tiredly.

“Oh, fuck we do. Ro, we gotta go,” Remy reached down to grab Roman and pulled at his arm, but it collapsed limply back to the couch when he released it. “Shit, Virge?” Remy looked desperately to the spirit box. “We can’t talk to the detective without him,”

“Was he okay last time?” Virgil asked, his voice laced with concern.

“Yeah, he just fell asleep as soon as you left. He was starving the next day, but that was it. Come on, we’re already late unless I can gun it,” Remy said, motioning with his hand for Virgil to come over. Virgil sighed and reached out into Roman, closing his own eyes and opening Roman’s a moment later. He nodded to Remy, and they haphazardly ran out the door and downstairs to the car.

The evening air must have been warm, because Virgil could see Roman’s breath as he exhaled and sunk into the car seat, buckling in while Remy already started the car and backing out, buckling his seat belt as he pulled slowly down the apartment street to the exit.

“That was… so much fucking blood, Virge,” Remy said, sounding uncharacteristically weak.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Virgil chuckled weakly and leaned Roman’s head back against the seat, closing his eyes. It took a second for what Remy said to sink in and Virgil shot upright, looking over to Remy in surprise. “Wait what? You saw?” Virgil shot, gripping the seatbelt in Roman’s hands.

“Yeah,” Remy chuckled weakly. “Was that like a ghost panic attack or something? That was some horror movie shit. I’m going to have nightmares for fucking _weeks_ ,” Remy hissed angrily.

“I, uh, guess so… Let’s… not talk about my death anymore. If you want to know more you can just watch it. Not that you’re missing much more information,” Virgil sighed despondently.

“What?” Remy asked incredulously, glancing quickly to Roman before returning his eyes to the road. He blew a stop sign after slowing down to make sure no one was coming.

“Less illegal driving, please,” Virgil sighed. “I don’t want you two dead, too. I can’t believe you’re even surprised anymore. The living room feed didn’t have audio, just don’t show me. You can probably watch it until his security cloud service is canceled. It’s all online. I’ll give you the login. Just don’t watch the bedroom feed, please. I don’t think I can take knowing you saw me getting fucked or anything,” Virgil groaned.

“I don’t **want** to see you get fucking raped, Virge,” Remy huffed in frustration.

“I don’t know about all-” Virgil started.

“I think if you’re a fucking sex slave it’s _all_ rape,” Remy rolled his eyes. “I don’t care if some of it _wasn’t_ torture fucking,” Remy groaned.

“Okay, fair, but I think sex slave-”

“Nuh-uh, bitch, don’t care about whatever brainwashing bullshit you went though is telling you. You said you’re bad with boundaries. I’m telling you that the line is _not where you think it i_ s,” Remy and shortly.

“Fine, valid,” Virgil crossed Romans’s arms and looked up to the car roof. “I have a pretty clear picture of stuff, now, you know,” Virgil sighed in frustration.

“I think you still might not know where the line is for stuff, even if you can see the fucking forest for the trees now,” Remy objected in exasperation and flipped his hand. Virgil blinked slowly and leaned back. Remy was probably right and he shouldn’t fight him on it.

“… So you saw me? How did I… what did I look like?” Virgil asked awkwardly after a moment, rubbing Roman’s arm.

“A bloody fucking mess. Dead. You know, generally _not great_ ,” Remy said glibly.

“You weren’t able to see me after I started to flicker out, right?”

“You faded a bit. I saw you well enough to aim, but after you disappeared I couldn’t see you again,”

“Weird,” Virgil sighed and closed Roman’s eyes, feeling Roman’s tiredness. “I wonder what that’s about,”

“I don’t know, but if you’re always that much a fucking bloody nightmare I don’t know how I feel about you being on the couch,” Remy groaned uncomfortably.

“It’s not real blood, it won’t stain the couch. It doesn’t always happen. I’m usually blood free,” Virgil shrugged Roman’s shoulders. “I don’t know why it happens. I figured it was just a ghost thing,”

“Were you covered in that much blood when you died?” Remy grimaced.

“Probably not that much. I had other stuff on me, too. I was glad they cleaned me off when you guys saw,” Virgil muttered. “Do you think Roman is okay?”

“Maybe he just cried himself out?” Remy offered, sounding unsure. “Do you feel anything?”

“He feels exhausted, I think,” Virgil said, equally as unsure. Roman’s feelings were distant to Virgil. “I’d hold on to him when I hop out to take over the detective in case he’s asleep. I’ll take him back when I’m done. I wonder why I was visible,”

“No idea. Maybe too much ghost going-ons while you were having a panic attack,” Remy offered in explanation. “My ex would probably call it ‘periods of high emotional tension’, or something. I mean being able to see you for once was fantastic but no offense, I don’t want a repeat of that experience,” Remy said bitterly.

“Fair,” Virgil chuckled weakly. “I’ll try to figure it out,” Virgil sighed.

— ☠ —

Remy was holding Roman on the couch and Virgil looked to Remy and nodded to him and closed his eyes, dropping out of Roman by teleporting next to them on the couch. Roman’s body slumped into Remy’s arms and Remy sighed, ruffling Roman’s hair slightly with a small smile. He was passed out but seemed okay. He was breathing evenly with a soft and neutral face.

“Let’s put on _Tangled_ while we cook or something so he has something nice to wake up to,” Virgil suggested through the ghost box.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Remy nodded and picked up the remote. Virgil got up and shifted for Remy to lay Roman down. Remy tucked Roman in under the blanket after laying him down, then planted a kiss on his temple. “I’m glad all that shit is settled,” Remy sighed and headed into the kitchen.

“Same. To… to be safe maybe don’t let me hold a knife, I think. I don’t want to… accidentally make the association and do _that_ again,” Virgil said quietly. “I just need one chopped onion and some garlic and for you to open the package of sausage for now. Give me metal tongs for the seasonings,”

“Got it, babe,” Remy nodded and headed into the fridge. Virgil dug out a big pot from the cabinet and filled it with water for the noodles to boil. He set it on the burner and set it up, then left the kitchen.

Virgil popped over to another power pole to charge up before he sat on the floor in front of the couch, looking at Roman’s sleeping face. He had no idea what happened earlier, but he wanted it again. To be seen and touched, and not just a creepy voice on a modded radio. He didn’t want all the rest of it. Maybe they were linked, though. He was certain he was re-experiencing his death because he was talking about it. He didn’t plan on doing that again. Virgil sighed a puff of cool air and watched the movie. It was nice to watch some _Disney_ again. It had been a long time.

“Onion and garlic in olive oil on the stove, sausage package opened. Get me when you need me to put the noodles in,” Remy waved. Virgil nodded, though he realized it was meaningless, and got up to go take over cooking in the kitchen.

He eyeballed the various metal cooking utensils on the counter and the open spice cabinet with a smile. Maybe this would be easier in a body, but it would be nice to do it on his own. Virgil started cooking happily humming along with the movie playing from the living room. Using the tongs to pull out the seasonings was an absolute bitch at first, it was hard to get a good grip even though the tongs had silicone ends. He used a spoon to pry open lids and some of them were even metal so he could twist those off without it being a whole fucking event. He tossed in the meat to brown and pulled some canned tomatoes and sauce from the pantry while he sauteed it all together.

Cooking again was nice. It was grounding and comfortable and made him feel real. He sort of needed that feeling after today where he ghosted out twice. Maybe he’d need to take a ghost nap again just to help reset his sanity. He figured that might help. But right now he was fine. It bothered him that he couldn’t smell or taste the food, but he had cooked so much in his life that it wasn’t a big deal as long as he didn’t try to experiment. Spaghetti was very easy to make, and it was hard to ruin a tomato sauce if he didn’t go overboard.

“Water’s ready for the noodles,” Virgil said through the ghost box as he lifted off the pot lid and stirred. Being able to do things without touching them was really cool. He liked that part. Remy came in and picked up the package of spaghetti off the counter and dumped half in the pot. He pulled out a plastic strainer and set it in the sink for Virgil to pour it into and gave a little smile before heading back into the living room.

Using a spoon, he scooped some butter out for the water from the fridge. It took some effort, but Virgil didn’t want to ask for more help. He really wanted to do this himself. He really wanted to just feel human. He wanted to feel like he was still himself. It felt so good when he stirred in the butter off the spoon and floated it over to the sink to rinse it off.

Another song came on in the movie and he resumed singing along. He didn’t play it through the box; it was just for him to hear. He didn’t want to interrupt their movie time or wake up Roman. Or be caught singing along. He seasoned the water happily and even danced a little while he covered up the meat sauce to simmer and combine.

“Hey, Virge,” Patton yawned and waved tiredly as he passed the kitchen.

“Evenin’, Pat,” Virgil said cheerily through the spirit box. “Hope you’re hungry, I made an ass-ton,”

“I’m starvin,” Patton mumbled and dropped off his keys before heading into the bathroom. Virgil kept stirring the noodles and paused, blinking a few times and looking over to the bathroom, seeing Patton’s lights glitter through the wall. The fuck? Did Patton…? Oh shit, he normally would have made garlic bread with this. Virgil snapped in frustration. He could still make garlic toast. Using the tongs as carefully as possible, he managed to get the bread from the bread into the toaster. Getting off the clip from the bag was basically a feat of engineering. He grabbed a small saucepan and melted butter and seasonings together.

Virgil finished up the toast and drained the noodles when they were ready. He couldn’t try one and had to use the tongs to throw one at the wall, which was kind of fun even if he would rather have eaten it. He finished the toast, having to put it on the cutting board Remy left out since he was unable to get out a plate.

“Remy, tag. Everything’s ready,” Virgil said through the box and pushed out a chair at the table to sit with them. He leaned forward and watched Remy get up and head into the kitchen. Remy dumped the noodles into the sauce and stirred before serving up three bowls of it. Heathen. He’d have trouble tasting the flavoring in the noodles like that. But, whatever. The leftovers would go in the fridge like that, anyway.

“Thanks, V,” Remy winked over to the pulled out chair at the table.

“I actually liked doing it, it was nice,” Virgil said through the box. “It was grounding. I feel loads better than I did earlier,” Virgil admitted.

“Ro, dinner’s ready!” Patton said brightly and shook Roman laying on the couch. Roman snorted and woke up in surprise, his eyes shooting open and looking around. “Woah, easy tiger,” Patton grinned and stroked Roman’s hair. Roman sighed and got up.

“Sorry, padre,” Roman said and blinked slowly and then rubbed his face. “Just out of it,” Roman threw the blanket off his legs and got up to go to the table. Remy sat down at the table next to Virgil and scooped some spaghetti onto the garlic toast.

“Damn, Virge,” Remy said through a mouth full of food and Virgil grimaced despite his amusement. “I couldn’t have made spaghetti this good and I can touch food!” Remy swallowed and gave Virgil (or at least the empty chair) a thumbs up. Patton tried to push in the loose chair, but Remy put up his hand. “Bup-bup, that’s V’s seat,” Remy said.

“Oh, okay,” Patton nodded and sat down at what must have been his regular seat. “Thanks for making dinner, Virge! It was nice to see you so happy,” He smiled and started eating. “Why did you make dinner, though? It’s Remy’s night to cook. Was he avoiding chores again?” Patton shot Remy a glare and Remy held up his hands in protest, mouth too full of food to object. Roman sat down and looked between the two curiously.

“He did me a solid. I didn’t want the record showing a lie and wanted you to get your money. Plus, I wanted to. I like cooking,” Virgil shrugged. Roman looked shocked and stared ahead at the spirit box. “Roman, don’t think I won’t possess you again to make you eat dinner,” Virgil glared at him.

“I’m still processing, asshole,” Roman leaned against the table and rubbed his face hard, then ran his hand through his hair. “That wasn’t a dream?”

“No,” Virgil and Remy said at the same time, and Roman looked confused.

“And I’m tired and shit because you possessed me earlier?” Roman asked pointedly.

“Probably,” Virgil shrugged and Remy tilted his head to the side.

“I’m more curious how Pat knew you made dinner instead of me,” Remy asked curiously and ate another bite of spaghetti-garlic toast.

“Hey, yeah, and how did you know I was happy?” Virgil asked, lifting his head off the table.

“This is really good, Virge!” Patton said brightly and took another bite.

“...Thanks,” Virgil muttered. He really liked hearing that. “But that doesn’t answer my question,” He added, confused.

“I saw you, kiddo! You were dancing, and it looked like you were singing, but I couldn’t hear that,” Patton said, sounding contemplative. Virgil was extremely embarrassed that Patton saw that, and the light above them flickered for a moment with a static crackle on the spirit box.

“You were visible again? Were you singing along with the movie?” Remy accused teasingly, pointing his fork at Virgil and Virgil dropped his head again to the table in embarrassment, and the dishes clattered for a moment. “I didn’t know you could even dance without getting drunk first,” Remy laughed.

“I didn’t think anybody could see me,” Virgil mumbled quietly, but it came out of the box at a normal volume, as if his volume was turned up. “It’s not like I can drink now,”

“But you can put on club trash clothes and dance in the kitchen,” Remy teased further and Virgil groaned, and it was demonic through the spirit box.

“He was wearing that hoodie you gave me, not one of his clubbing outfits,” Patton tilted his head to the side in confusion.

“Remy’s just trying to see if you can embarrass the dead into the afterlife instead of shit life two: electric boogaloo,” Virgil whined.

“I’m your brother from another mother and am just picking up the teasing slack from these two,” Remy said airily.

“I’m the oldest of all of you,” Virgil glared at Remy.

“You’re only a few weeks old, ghost-wise,” Remy shrugged and ate a big bite of food.

“My ghost-age only counts when it comes to me poltergeisting around. I just made you dinner, that’s human Virgil,” Virgil explained firmly.

“So you _are_ a poltergeist,” Roman muttered, picking at his food.

“I will force you to eat that food, so help me god,” Virgil glared at Roman. Roman didn’t take a bite, so Virgil took over his fork, twisting some spaghetti on it and shoving it in his mouth. Roman sputtered and made an offended noise but ate it.

“Taking other people’s silverware is rude, Virgil!” Roman shot angrily after swallowing.

“So is making your hungry brother who loves you _watch_ as you refuse to eat,” Virgil said darkly and the box crackled as the gravelly tone came out.

“He, um, has a point, Ro. Let’s not piss off the poltergeist,” Remy put his hand on Roman’s shoulder. “Virgil’s had a rough enough afternoon as it is,”

“Fine,” Roman sighed and took a bite of his own accord. “Thanks for dinner,” He mumbled.

“Thanks for eating,” Virgil said, exhaling his exasperation and moving to lean back in the chair and put his feet up under the table on nothing. “Pat are you still off your rocker or something?”

“Mm, how would I know?” Patton said, taking another appreciative bite of dinner. Virgil raised his eyebrows and shrugged. That’s fair. “It’s nice having you here. We should have gotten a three-bedroom so you could have your own room!”

“I’m a ghost, Pat, I don’t need to sleep and shit,” Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Having your own space is nice,” Patton shrugged.

“I have a whole house to myself. I’m not worried about it,” Virgil grinned and the voice came out kind of manic. Patton flinched slightly, but Remy and Roman seemed too tired to react to the creepiness.

“Why would you want to be there?” Roman said accusingly.

“You think if I kept paying the electric they would keep it up regardless of its ownership status?” Virgil mused.

“I bet your electric guzzling habit is expensive, though,” Remy tapped his bowl with his fork.

“I’m kind of stuck there either way. I’m not letting a single fucking soul enter that house to take anything out. Not even his family if I can help it,” Virgil said sourly, crossing his arms and flipping out his hand.

“Shame it wasn’t in your name and we can’t just take over the mortgage or his property taxes,” Remy mused. “I bet that would be cheaper than our rent,”

“Think I can possess someone to fix that?” Virgil suggested maliciously.

“Zi-” Roman started, but a hiss broke out of the radio. “He who shall not be named-” Roman corrected himself quickly.

“Nice,” Remy nodded.

“His lawyer. Do you know who that is?” Roman finished.

“That’s probably on his laptop. I’ll check tonight. Remus told me to meet him at his apartment later and the laptop is there. Get his address, watch his system for a bit, change stuff up, right?” Virgil asked.

“Assuming he didn’t have a will, anyway. If there was a will, it likely would already have been enacted. But a wealthy guy like freakin’ voldemort maybe had a lawyer handling his affairs. Dibs on his car,” Roman smirked.

“Done, if I can,” Virgil grinned back at Roman. “Cleaning out the house is going to be a bitch, though. I’m going to need like… so many disinfectant wipes. And also someone to stop me from setting the main bedroom on fire. Because damn, do I want to set that room on fire,”

“Mood,” Remy chuckled darkly.

“I don’t know how I feel about living where you died, though,” Roman said nervously.

“Considering you guys didn’t set off the stupid polterghost bullshit, you’re probably the only ones who can,” Virgil shrugged.

“… polterghost bullshit?” Patton looked at the spirit box warily.

“Whoops. Remus didn’t tell you. The reason, the text earlier? The one I probably shouldn’t clarify the contents of, but involves calling something a specific way? I might have a forced and _uncontrolled_ reaction to intruders,” Virgil said sheepishly. “A cleaning crew came and I sort of removed them from the premises. I was with Remus at his work and just sort of… teleported back as soon as they entered the house. I didn’t even know what was happening until I had already chased them off the lawn,” Virgil tapped the table nervously.

“Shit, we’d have to clean that whole mess ourselves?” Remy groaned.

“I can do it, I think. Remus said he had chain mail gloves,” Virgil shrugged. “I mean it’s my _mine_ ** _mine-_** ugh!” Virgil shook his head and slapped his face a few times. “I’m stuck there. Voldemort, the theoretical ownership of certain things, and the circumstances of that fucking day should probably not be mentioned,” Virgil added, wringing his hands together carefully.

“Couldn’t you just put it in our names at the tax office?” Patton asked curiously. “If a cleaning crew came, that might mean the family sent them already,”

“I’d love to, assuming it’s affordable,” Virgil said curiously. “When’s the lease up?”

“Oh, a few months out. But we’re getting 100k between these two idiots, we can afford to move and sublet it or something,” Remy shrugged and motioned between Roman and Patton with his fork. “And we can buy moonlighters,” Remy hissed in delight.

“What?” Roman shot.

“Oh, you already know he’s a spiteful bitch, how did you not see this coming?” Virgil laughed darkly, and the box made a demonic cackle that made everyone at the table jump.

“That… that will take getting used to,” Patton pointed to the spirit box with his fork.

“Y-yeah,” Roman shuddered and Virgil flinched involuntarily. Oh, goody, he’s still got that one even dead. Virgil sighed. “That’s fair. I suppose no matter what happens, I support you, love,” Roman said affectionately to Remy.

“So you’ll let me take like 50K to buy out Moonlighters?” Remy said, looking ecstatic. “Virge already agreed to be a tourist attraction,” Remy pointed to the empty chair.

“I did not!” Virgil shot, but he chuckled anyway. “I technically only agreed to haunt the competition,”

“Painting in a coffee shop,” Remy sang temptingly.

“Fucker, I can’t eat, drink, or smell, what’s the _draw_?” Virgil crossed his arms and shook his head.

“Coffee shop productivity. The mere presence of others makes you work better sometimes,” Remy flipped his hand. “I’ll buy you all kinds of paints,” He added and fluttered his eyelashes and the empty chair.

“You are the worst,” Virgil groaned and Roman jumped at the demonic noise and looked at Roman and Remy’s lights curiously. “Marry this fucker,” Virgil pointed at Remy and Roman turned bright red.

“Wedding!” Patton beamed brightly.

“I’m best man, you two can decide whose,” Virgil raised his hand and grinned impishly, leaning sideways in the chair and putting his feet up in the air.

“Aww! Lookit that smile, how can you say no?” Patton cooed and held his hands together while Roman and Remy just stared wide-eyed.

“Thank god you weren’t lying or I don’t think I could finish dinner,” Remy said sourly.

“Huh?” Virgil furrowed his eyebrows and looked confused at him.

“Virgil, can you change into a ball gown?” Patton requested excitedly.

“Why?” Virgil asked and crossed his arms behind his head.

“But can you?” Patton demanded. Virgil rolled his eyes dramatically before closing them and putting on that nice gown he saw a few years ago while shopping and secretly wanted. It was bright purple and long-sleeved with a slit in the dress, and he would have killed it in that dress if it wasn’t nine hundred dollars.

“There, my invisible ass changed. I can put on a gown. Happy?” Virgil flipped his hand. He stared at his hand for a moment and put on some jewelry, too. Why not? The diamonds weren’t real or anything and added to the classy bitch look.

“Will you wear that to the reception?” Patton asked, sounding awed.

“Quit planning our wedding!” Roman shot.

“Oh, just marry his scheming ass, I know you love him,” Virgil said airily and smirked at Roman. “I promise not to haunt the honeymoon,” Virgil yanked aside the dress to show the X over his heart and traced along it.

“Oh, put that away,” Remy grimaced.

“What, can you hear my shit-eating grin?” Virgil sat forward and leaned on his arms. Roman pulled out his phone and snapped a photo with a manic grin, then slid the phone across the table. Virgil looked down at it curiously. He could just barely make himself out in the photo, but he was definitely there. “Damn, I do look hot in this dress,” Virgil whistled, though it came out of the box weirdly distorted. He clicked a few buttons and sent it off to himself before sliding it back to Roman. “This whole visibility thing makes no sense,” Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Whup, there you go,” Remy motioned to him. “Gone again,”

“Ugh, dumb. Still. Marry him already,” Virgil motioned between the two of them. “He’s so your type, it’s painful. Sometimes the lights in you pull towards each other and everything, that’s got to mean something,”

“The lights?”

“Fuck, I have left y’all out of the loop. I can see your spirits or something in you. I don’t really know. It’s just like… a mass of twinkling lights that dance around. I can see the neighbors through the walls and stuff, too. It’s really bizarre. I started seeing them after I took a massive charge to scare out those assholes. There’s also a ghost world and if I go there, time is weird, and it’s not really the same version of this world,” Virgil added. “I think that’s everything,”

“So your spirits are drawn to each other?” Patton cooed in delight and looked between them. Remy turned bright red, which Virgil wished he had his phone to take a photo of. He’d never seen Remy so embarrassed in his life. He wasn’t sure Remy even had shame. Roman looked just as embarrassed and kept throwing glances between the empty chair and Remy.

“You’re such dorks,” Virgil chuckled. “Listen, if you want me to I’ll see how I can finagle the house to one of your names,” Virgil shrugged. “Obviously as a dead person it’s hard to own property and pay the property taxes. If you don’t want to move into it, you don’t have to. I’ll still clean it out just for me. Craigslist some shit out of it, that kind of thing,” Virgil waved his hand. “Definitely getting rid of that bed before I set it on fire. I happen to be in possession of a mini torch,” Virgil grinned maliciously.

“Oh god, I don’t want to know why,” Remy rubbed his face. “Give us some time to think about it,” Remy suggested.

“Agreed,” Roman nodded heavily. “You can just protect it and leave it empty, too. If you just want to crash with us, that’s fine,” Roman said. “It’d be… really nice to have you around,” Roman said quietly, sounding tired and upset. Virgil paused for a moment and looked at them. He… really _could_ have run away from Zi and crashed on their couch, huh? He was just fantasizing before. He didn’t realize it was _really_ an option. Virgil looked down. He was crying again. Stupid ghostness. “Virge?” Roman asked weakly.

“Shut up, you’re dumb,” Virgil muttered quietly.

“Aw, kiddo,” Patton said sweetly.

“Sh, I don’t care. I’m not used to feeling loved or whatever, let’s just drop it,” Virgil waved them off dispassionately and dropped his head down to the table again with a light clattering of the dishes. “I’m gonna go to Remus’s, he wanted to show me something. He may be back from dinner by now,” Virgil muttered.

“Get us more spirit boxes from the nerd!” Remy called out.

“Yeah, yeah,” Virgil said weakly and closed his eyes to go to Remus’s shit hole of an apartment.

Virgil looked around. It looked completely different from the last time he was here. Remus even put up one of the paintings he recovered from the house over his couch. It was still an absolute wreck, but in the dining room all of Virgil’s painting things were set up. There were still piles of shit around, though Virgil didn’t recognize the contents of lots of it. Clothes, books, papers, trinkets. Remus liked to take things apart and put them back together in weird ways. There were even some dolls that seemed to have gotten the Frankenstein treatment. It was a little creepy. No creepier than Virgil, though.

The bedroom had a sex swing unabashedly up and a display shelf for his sex toys, the fucking weirdo. It looked like it had been reorganized since the last time Virgil came over. That bad dragon dildo was on display, which made Virgil laugh out. He heard a spirit box crackle with his laugh in another room. The bed wasn’t made, despite probably not having slept here in a while. Virgil bitterly wished he could make the bed, but maybe that was just some kind of weird neurotic mess he had from living with he who shall not be named.

Virgil drifted back to the living room but stumbled part way through. Stupid habits. He continued walking over to the easel and this painting things to check it out. Each paintbrush had a little rubber pencil grip on it, which was dedication. There was a set of chain mail gloves that would go three quarters of the way up Virgil’s arm. These would probably be pretty heavy after a while for a human. There was also a pair of extra large rubber dish gloves that were hot pink and said ‘goddess’ on the rim. Virgil rolled his eyes at them. Virgil placed his hands through the chain mail gloves and started making the attempt to wrestle the dish gloves over.

When the chain mail gloves accidentally bumped each other, there was an arc of electricity between them. The dish gloves were probably Logan’s idea, seeing as that didn’t even occur to Virgil and Logan was an electrical engineer. It took ages to get the rubber gloves over the top of the chainmail ones. It’s good his hands weren’t real or it would probably be a painfully snug set of gloves. But now he had a way to pick up the paint tubes and the brushes. The box with the rest of his things was behind his easel. He’d probably need paint thinner for these old tubes. The purple chipped mug was already on a stool full of water for him.

Virgil dug out the bottle and a palette. He actually didn’t really know what to paint, it had been so long. Then he remembered those little lights in people and how hard it was to describe. They were strange and beautiful and mesmerizing to watch. It wouldn’t be animated or anything, but he could paint it. Virgil dug through the box for some black gesso and paint retardant. Having hands was awesome. It was a shame these were stuck at Remus’s place, almost. He’d need someone to drop them off at his house to clean up… Or maybe some pliers and a shit ton of jump rings.

He hummed as he flipped through the various sizes of blank canvases. He didn’t have many left, but he pulled out the second largest one and set that on the easel and started washing it with the black gesso. The front door opened, and some keys clattered on the table.

“Oh, hey, Virge!” Remus said brightly, waving to the floating gloves and paintbrush. Remus’s hair was wild, and he had a pretty dopey grin.

“Someone’s freshly fucked,” Virgil chuckled with a demonic flair. “What, did you get a pasta boner or something?”

“You’re not far off. I was happy you were back and made an extra fancy dinner that Logan appreciated after a rough day at work. I might have volunteered a healthy outlet for his frustration,” Remus sighed contentedly and flopped happily on the couch.

“I _really_ don’t want to hear it. I’m glad you had fun, though,” Virgil said plainly. He’d had a hard enough day of recalling horrible shit without those kinds sucking him in.

“That’s cool. Memories or whatever. Looks like you already found what I wanted to show you!” Remus motioned to the canvas.

“Thank you so much for setting this up for me,” Virgil said sheepishly through the spirit box.

“It’s whatever. I’m not here that much. I’m glad you were able to get those gloves over the other, my hands were too big and I just couldn’t slip them over. I thought the rubber grips would be enough, but Logan pointed out other risks,” Remus leaned back and smiled over at the canvas.

“Yeah, they were electrocutioners gloves,” Virgil laughed darkly with an evil distortion through the box. “Not that I’m not a fan of that, but my paint might have exploded,”

“Oh, artistic,” Remus crooned.

“So, Roman believes in me now,” Virgil said offhandedly. “I’m still not sure about Pat, but he did refer to me by name, so that’s probably close enough,”

“What happened? Last I heard he was pretty stubborn,” Remus furrowed his eyebrows.

“Well, the whole… my own voice coming out of the box despite sounding kind of evil thing helped,” Virgil shrugged, making sure the gesso was applied evenly.

“Sounds like it’s not the whole story,” Remus raised his eyebrow at Virgil.

“I had a polter-panic attack and relived my death when they demanded to know what happened… and they could see and touch me for a moment,” Virgil said, swallowing heavily. “So, uh, that’s off the table to discuss. If you want to know what happened you can watch the recording before the service gets shut off and never ever tell me,” Virgil sighed and Remus shuddered with a chill. “I guess I become visible randomly now, too?” Virgil added. “I’m wearing a shiny dress so if you happen to see me, you’re not hallucinating, Pat just told me to change into one and I feel like a fancy bitch painting in this dress and dripping in diamonds,” Virgil laughed brightly and he tried to start working some thickened partially dried paint out onto the palette to use.

“I… I am curious what happened. You’ve been pretty vague. I mean, I have a pretty good idea. I probably can guess and all,” Remus muttered, wringing his hands. “This might just be morbid curiosity again, and I don’t want to make you upset just because of that,”

“Like I said, I just don’t want to know,” Virgil shrugged. “I don’t want to ever have to explain it. If you watch, I don’t have to explain it and poltergeist out again about it. But you might also get nightmares of your naked and beaten friend and his skills with knives, so maybe it’s a tradeoff,” Virgil said glibly.

“I… see. Okay. I’ll take the password and never discuss it. I have a while to decide,” Remus mumbled.

“Sounds good. Calling myself _he_ sounds kind of weird, now,” Virgil mused. “I’m not really… anything?” Virgil thought curiously as he started working on the soft glow.

“Uh, valid. Do you, uh, know what sounds better?” Remus asked, kicking off his shoes against the wall and flopping back on the couch. Virgil wished he didn’t still have to flinch at stammering that but maybe one day the reaction would stop.

“I don’t think I ever really thought about it before, honestly. I mean, I knew it was an option, I just never looked into it for me. I don’t know all the words. And they doesn’t feel right either. I’m not a person, you know?” Virgil hummed and used a palette knife to blend his silver into a workable pigment again.

“Ghost existential crisis?” Remus asked, pulling out his phone. “Lemme look up a list of neopronouns,” Remus said, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and knocking over a cup of dice. He didn’t acknowledge or pick them up. Ugh, it was disgusting in here.

“I’m probably going to go insane and clean your fucking apartment, dude, this is a _nightmare_ , and I relived my death earlier,” Virgil groaned.

“But my system-”

“Is garbage just like the way you fucking live,” Virgil rolled his eyes and started blending pigments into the black gesso background for a soft fade. “Do you know how much time I spent obsessively cleaning to not get punished? It’s an eventuality if I spend time here and I’d rather have your permission,”

“Fine, whatever, I’m sure Logan will thank you,” Remus groaned and rolled his eyes. “Oh! Oh! Virge! Virge!”

“What, fuckface?” Virgil growled with a gravely spike through the box.

“It’s perfect,”

“Out with it!” Virgil shot.

“Haun/Haunt pronouns,” Remus said excitedly. “Virgil is going to finish haunts painting while haun is bothered by haunts friend,” Remus added as an example. Virgil perked up, interested. Haunt. Ghosty. Virgil really liked it.

“Are… would you? I mean… I can change it later, right?” Virgil asked with interest.

“Yeah, anytime,” Remus nodded.

“Are you really going to bother me while painting?” Virgil clarified, a little annoyed.

“I don’t have anything better to do,” Remus beamed. Virgil laughed with a sinister crackle from the ghost box.

“Fair,” Virgil said matter-of-factly and focused up on making sure the painting had the soft glow it should. Haun wasn’t sure haun had enough glaze. Oh, nice. Virgil nodded to hauntself and dug around in haunts art supplies, looking for any other containers of glaze. It was necessary for that glowy look, and haun didn’t think the depiction would be accurate without it. “I’m going to need more glaze. Will you take me to an art store soon?” Virgil asked distractedly, trying to focus on mixing the right colors.

“Sure. Whatcha working on?” Remus said, picked up the remote to click on the TV.

“Those lights in everybody. They’re really hard to describe, I thought I’d try painting them. I need more glazing medium to pull it off. And maybe some more semi-transparents,” Virgil mumbled, closing haunts eyes to look closer at Remus’s lights on the couch. “I guess this will be a portrait of your soul or something,” Virgil chuckled.

“Metal,” Remus nodded sagely. “How about Ancient Aliens?” Remus asked after a moment.

“Sure, I’m always a slut for conspiracy theories,” Virgil said airily, mixing more pigments. Getting the exact colors was difficult, but Virgil was determined to do this right.

— ☠ —

Maybe it was just the whole being dead thing where haun doesn’t so much sleep as much as haun stops existing… or maybe it was the fact haun didn’t need to ghost-sleep unless haun did something major, but things seemed to start moving faster and faster. Days weren’t exactly blinks apart, but Virgil managed to make some chainmail gloves for haunts place, clean up haunts house, do a giant graffiti mural, finish a few paintings, sell or just get rid of the garbage haun didn’t want from Zillah’s, scare off every single person that even stepped into the driveway, and start a soul portrait of Remy and Roman for a wedding present, because Roman was actually thinking about it now.

Haun still had hard days, or periods of time, but Virgil had mostly gotten used to the being dead thing. The police tape was taken down and a very large sign warning about trespassers was put up. Zillah’s bed was gone completely, and Virgil had filled the bedroom with ghost furniture instead. All the clothes were donated and the sex stuff sold to some _Craigslist_ pervert. Well, some of it was burned in a pyre. Getting that damn suit to light was very, very hard. There were things stored in the closet, but mostly the other things had been cleared out of the other two rooms as well.

The others were playing with the idea of moving in with Virgil to save on rent, still. Haun could understand why they found the idea iffy. Virgil would like the company here, but living in the house after your friend died wouldn’t be something Virgil would want to do either. Remy had been really gungho about that spite coffee shop purchase and just got approved for a loan, so he’d begun haggling with the store owner about the price. Virgil got the impression the store owner was nearly worn down. Remy was trying to minimize the loan amount as much as possible.

Logan’s picture box concept worked and while it took a shit ton of energy, haun could show thoughts and memories on the box. Logan was working on perfecting it. Virgil even found things to like about being dead. Haun’d been haunting people for fun, playing with haunts powers, and having an okay time. Haun was even in the cooking rotation at haunts brother’s apartment. Haun’d cooked for Logan and Remus a few times, too. It was really nice to be praised for things, and Virgil was admittedly a little addicted. Haun was 100% positive that Patton had caught on, too, because Patton seemed to go out of his way to thank Virgil for cleaning and complimenting haunts cooking.

It was still lonely, though. Virgil spent haunts evenings when haun could with either haunts family or with Remus, but they were all adults with other things to do. For the bulk of the day, Virgil was at home. Turns out even if the dogs can’t see Virgil, they still freaked out if haun spent too much time there. Haun could only pop in for a bit. The first time Virgil hung out there the dog was antsy, and some had piddled where they shouldn’t in fear.

Zillah’s video game collection was fun, and since Virgil had no idea when the electric would get turned off haun’d been trying to make a dent in it. Logan estimated haun had until a few days after the next billing cycle if Zillah’s bank account was closed and it couldn't autopay. They were looking into installing solar panels for Virgil, though, and that was an ‘after shop acquisition’ purchase. Logan offered to install them for free if they bought the equipment.

Even though the house was cleared out and Virgil had been making it more haunts own every day, haun would still paint at Remus’s. It was a nice excuse to be out of the house, which Virgil relished, but Remus was taking time to hang out with Virgil. Haun didn’t think they’d ever spent so much time together since college.

They would watch a conspiracy show or listen to a podcast while Virgil painted and Remus worked on his ‘projects’. Logan came over sometimes and criticized the logic of the theories with them, but for the most part it was just the two of them. Maybe Logan was giving them space, because Remus tended to get depressed when Virgil was gone for too long. He probably still wasn’t dealing with Virgil’s death too well. Remus did better emotionally if they spent quality time with each other.

Virgil also was spending much more time with haunts brothers. Haun joined them for meals, even when haun didn’t cook, but also for movie nights, outings, Pat’s games, and just hanging out with them. Hell, Virgil even started spending time with Logan alone. They read books together and had been frequenting Moonlighters for their new mini book club. Virgil wasn’t sure haun had ever been so socially and emotionally fulfilled in haunt entire life. Haun still would kill for a hug, but they were so nice and friendly and forgave Virgil’s slip-ups easily. Having a body and existing in a society were overrated sometimes. Other times not so much, but haun would take the win.

When Virgil was left alone for too long, haun struggled with staying… humany enough. And being in public alone made haunt antsy. So they all seemed to be chipping in time, even though Virgil personally never told them that leaving haunt alone for long periods wasn’t a good idea. They probably understood by the way Virgil desperately tried to spend time with any of them when they were free. Floating around them without being acknowledged didn’t help much, either, so Virgil stopped trying to do that fast. People not knowing he was there made haunt feel dead, and the more dead haunt felt, the worse haunts thoughts would spiral or memories would win out. Grounding, humany things were important.

The pattern Virgil’s life was settling into was satisfying enough. All the freedom and friendship haun was getting was amazing. Haun knew it would be up in the air again soon, but maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. If there weren’t too many curveballs haun could figure it out and try to catch up. Haun didn’t do very well with changes. Sometimes it was just anxiety attacks and sometimes full on ghostly panic attacks. They weren’t sure if that was a ‘ghost’ thing or a ‘tortured for years’ thing. They decided it didn’t matter since they likely couldn’t change either and opted to ease Virgil into things and avoid sticky subjects. Virgil appreciated all the effort to include haunt in their lives, honestly.

Haun stretched haunts arms and got up from the couch and headed into the backyard for some sunshine. The days were lonely even with the evenings filled with people and even though haun couldn’t actually breathe; it seemed to help break up the day and the loneliness just by going into the yard or walking around the park. Haun scared the dogs at the park and didn’t like getting chased down by them, so the backyard was the normal choice.

Virgil focused carefully and stepped up into the air. Haun was still getting a hang of flying, but haun could move anywhere if haun just imagined a way to get there normally. Haun climbed a non-existent staircase and laid down, floating above the lawn. Haun watched the birds go by and the clouds shift in the sky melancholily.

Haun used to hang out on the deck and do this with Zi. As much as Remus insisted that Zillah didn’t deserve rights, Virgil thought back to him often. It didn’t always result in getting sucked up into memories anymore. The bad memories were a guarantee, but the good times let Virgil stay in the present usually. It was unfair, but so was death.

The staticky feeling in Virgil’s non-corporeal body flared to life and built up quickly. Haun groaned loudly and appeared on the lawn, seeing who the intruder was now before haun fucking lost it. It better not be the electric company, Virgil was in the middle of playing _Skyrim_. Virgil looked at the fancy sedan curiously. Then a familiar face stepped out of the driver’s seat looking pissed.

Oh, holy fucking shit. It was Zi’s mom. Virgil had scared off any attempt by anybody to do a single with this the house. Haun didn’t really have a choice, but now haun knew who the culprit sending them was. The staticky feeling overflowed and Virgil’s on rage built. How dare she try to intrude on _haunts_ house? Haunts fucking house!

She marched up to the front door and fumbled with her keys. Virgil wasn’t having this, period. If she went inside, she’d see all the things haun had changed and Virgil would lose control. Haun was supernaturally angry, in a way only a poltergeist could be, but haun still had control up until she crossed the threshold. Virgil yanked the keys out of her hand and brought them over to her car, shoving them in the car door. She looked around the patio curiously before heading back to the car in confusion. _Good_.

Zi’s mom didn’t seem surprised the keys were in the door, though, she just made a face of distaste and took the keys out and tried to head back. Virgil sighed. It’s never that easy. Haun yanked the keys out of her hand again and just floated them above her head. Maybe then she would get the picture. She blinked a few times in bafflement and yanked them out of the air and headed towards the house again. Anger roiled in Virgil, overwhelming haunt as she got closer to the door. Virgil grabbed her by the necklace from behind and yanked her away.

“Do you not get the fucking _picture_ , bitch?” Virgil hissed into her ears, pulling her back to the car while she sputtered for air. “I killed your bastard son for trying to kill me and I can kill you too. It’s so… very… easy,” Virgil pulled tighter and lifted her off the ground slightly before throwing her into the car. She hit the door with a thump and collapsed to the ground. “I almost fucking want to, why don’t you try the front door _one more time,_ you heinous bitch. You raised a real piece of work, you know, it’s pretty telling,” Virgil growled demonically and pinned her to the car with her necklace. She choked when trying to get up, but Virgil let go and watched what she did.

“What the hell?” She screamed, scrambling up.

“Hell wouldn’t keep me,” Virgil grinned, pulling haunt claw along the car door next to her. There was a brief squeal as haun made contact with it. “You get one chance. If you enter that house, you’re not making it out alive. You leave? You can live,” Virgil hissed angrily, shoving her up against the car.

Haun pushed her so hard there was a hollow thud from the door, and the whole car rocked. Haun dropped her again before he electrocuted her accidentally. She screamed a few obscenities but seemed to get the picture as she opened the car door and clambered in from the ground. Virgil broke her radio volume knob at maximum volume just for the hell of it as she backed out of the driveway and drove off while haun waved.

Virgil exhaled hard, grinding haunts non-existent teeth. Haun wanted to go finish the job, but haun also didn’t need more blood on haunt hands. Haun exhaled hard and reappeared inside the house, picking up haunts controller to get back to playing to try to distract hauntself. It wasn’t particularly successful, however. Virgil saved and shut off the system before haun accidentally fried it. Haun didn’t feel safe around people but also was lonely and had a strong need for disorder and chaos. Haunting something it was.

Haun picked a random giant chain store and walked up to the phone at the register. A demonic noise crackled through the speaker. Haun tried to speak, but nothing came through, so haun laughed instead. It worked and a sinister laugh shattered through the cackling and reverberated through the store.

Virgil reached out and pulled out multiple register drawers at once, throwing the money all over the front of the store as haun chucked the trays from unattended registers. People looked conflicted between running for their fucking lives and theft, and that was good enough.

Virgil retreated to the toy section to go play with what he could. Haun made doll heads spin and demonic noises come out of all the electronic toys he could find, laughing hard. Why not step it up a little further? Virgil headed to the jewelry counter. It wasn’t currently manned, probably because the employee was trying to help up front.

Haun used haunts ghost telekinesis to pick up the metal stool seat and wind it up, coming down hard on the glass. Haun took the jewelry and chucked it hard all over the store. Haun felt bad about the poor employees stuck cleaning this up, but it was too good to stop and was also abating haunts need for murder.

Haun destroyed any of the rest of the glass haun could find, brandishing the metal stool like a club and attacking anything that would satisfy haunts thirst for destruction. Metal shelves were dented, the jewelry counter was in shambles, registers were destroyed, and Virgil decimated all the windows and doors at the entrance. Haun even broke a change machine open, dumping coins everywhere near the exit.

The store had devolved into a minor riot. Customers were stealing freely, and the employees were cowering. Virgil cackled as haun broke open the glass on a crane machine just to hear it shatter, throwing the stool through the drywall right after.

Virgil wobbled, heading over to a socket to recharge. Haun kicked it, sucking in all the power haun could handle. The lights for the entire store flickered violently, some bulbs blowing as haun screamed out in excruciating pain. The whole store went down and Virgil collapsed into a heap on the floor, gasping for nonexistent air. The buzzing feeling overwhelmed haunt for a few moments, but when haun came too, the need to just fucking snap somebody’s neck was finally gone. Haun teleported back home, feeling very satisfied.

The first thing haun did was flop down on the couch and brag to Remus. Haun knew Remus would love to hear it. Virgil hoped haun made the news. A metal stool went on a rampage. Or maybe Virgil would show up and a figure in a hoodie, corset, and thigh-high converse would glitch in and out of translucent existence in video. Haun made a scythe patch appear on the back of haunts hoodie. Haun felt like he earned it. Remus messaged back wanting to come over and use haunts kitchen for dinner and bring Janus.

It sounded good to Virgil so haun gave him the go-ahead. Haun was curious what it was that needed so much space, but Logan’s kitchen was the tiniest galley piece of shit he’d ever seen. They broke everything that wasn’t metal, so haun was amused by the fact that they’d probably have to eat out of a mixing bowl or something. Virgil mostly just had cookware left. Haun was feeling much better, so it felt safe to use electronics again. Haunts painting stuff was still all at Remus’s, but Virgil’s ‘new’ laptop and tablet were back here with haunt, so haun decided to do a little drawing.

Virgil enjoyed a few hours of drawing and dicking around on haunts tumblr, which had started getting asks about ghosts. Maybe people thought haun was joking or an otherkin or something, but Virgil didn’t care. Haun enjoyed being interesting, and they asked questions that haun didn’t even think of to answer.

The thing haun couldn’t narrow down was the ghost world, and haun had gotten multiple asks about it today, telling haun to try certain things. One wanted to see if it was easier for Virgil to fly there, and another wanted to know if summoned ghost items looked different there. Haun got up from the desk and dropped out of normal reality to the ghost world.

Haun swallowed hard. Haun… hadn’t looked at the ghost world living room since haun died. Haun avoided the ghost world in general. It was… There was blood everywhere. The shattered remains of the cage. The knife. Zillah. Zillah’s corpse, covered in blood, splayed out on the floor. Virgil felt like haun couldn’t breathe again. Haun couldn’t tear haunts eyes away from Zillah’s lifeless body on the cold hard ground. Desaturated blood looked nearly black, like ink spilling out of him. That was the pattern Virgil never figured out. This place was the world the moment Virgil died.

Virgil’s own personal hell, the moment in time he wanted to forget the most, right here for haun to never forget. A place haun would see every time haun closed haunts eyes. Zillah body, haunt greatest regret, here forever with Virgil. Haun could never be free. Zillah’s corpse, Zillah’s house, Zillah’s torture, Zillah’s commands could never be fully ignored. They were always there, haun was always there. There was nothing Virgil could do to fully separate from his greatest regret and biggest sin. They were part of who haun was now.

Haun collapsed in a heap and held hauntself as haun sobbed on the floor. There was nothing for Virgil. There was no escape. Zillah still controlled him from beyond the grave. Haun was forced to protect the place Zillah died. Virgil’s ‘manners’, the postures, the commands, the codes… Haun still had them. Haun could still hear his voice telling him to drop to position zero. Counting. Laughing. Telling Virgil haun was worthless or that he loved haun. Reminding Virgil who was in charge. It _is_ another punishment. The ultimate punishment for the ultimate crime. Here, forever, with the person haun both loved and hated the most. The sounds of the memories were so loud.

Virgil wasn’t finally free, haun was still a disobedient sub who was getting a punishment. Virgil was haunts own judge and jury and haun knew haun was guilty. Haun glanced up to Zillah’s corpse. It hurt _so much_ to look at. It was searing hot and freezing cold, the kind of pain haun now knew to be haunts own unique ghostly suffering. Virgil squeezed haunts eyes shut and curled into a ball. Haun tried to focus, to leave, but it felt like Zillah’s body was crushing haunt. Haun was pinned. Trapped. Caged. There was no escape. This was Virgil’s realm. Where human-Virgil died and ghost-Virgil was born. The place haun will always return and where Virgil will be trapped for eternity.

Haun cried as haunt claws gripped into his legs. Blood poured out of haunt mouth and soaked haunt clothes. Haunt could smell it, could taste it. Was it Virgil’s blood? Was it Zillah’s? Was there even a difference? It was hot, sharp, and wet. Haunts every mark and scar burned and stung. The crops, switches, and knives of the past overwhelmed haunt. The hunger, the deep hunger and burning dry throat. The hands pressing into haunt. Virgil held haunts head and shook it madly, splattering blood around haunt.

There was a distant melody that pervaded the deafening silence. It was soft, blurred, uncertain, but strangely familiar. There was finally something for Virgil to grip on to that wasn’t haunt own suffering and guilt, so Virgil grabbed it with everything haun had. The tune became more familiar the more Virgil focused on it. It was one of haunts favourite songs. Any memory was better than the ones screaming all around haunt but the reminder of what haun loved as a human was perfect to pull haunt away. Colours and sounds finally came back as Virgil fell to the floor of human reality instead of haunts own personal hell.

“Holy fuck, thank you,” Virgil rasped out demonically through the spirit box. Haun melted on the floor and enjoyed the world around him, fully saturated with the sound of Virgil’s computer fan and humans breathing instead of Zillah’s harsh demands and soft words.

“Shit, Virgil, are you okay?” Remus asked, looking around wildly. Virgil grabbed a little metal star and put it on haunts chest so Remus would know where to look.

“I… learned something not so fun. I don’t want to talk about it,” Virgil shook haunts head slowly, though haun was perfectly aware Remus couldn’t see.

“Uh, okay…” Remus said weakly. “The lights were going bonkers and we could hear your crying through the spirit box so we figured something up. You weren’t responding, so Jan just started singing. You blew one of the spirit boxes again,” He explained, holding up a radio that was still smoking lightly.

“Jan?” Virgil sat up slowly and looked around the room again. Logan was standing behind the couch and the man from Virgil’s memory was sitting on the couch, looking around in confusion, but waved at the little metal star.

“Pleased to… Fuck, the is the absolute strangest thing I’ve ever done,” Janus huffed and held his head. “I’m sorry for, uh, I don’t even know, I think I’m just sorry. My condolences for everything ever,” He sounded absolutely baffled.

“Whatever. Thanks for saving my bacon twice now,” Virgil smiled at him. “I was kind of stuck,” Haun added weakly.

“I… assumed as much. I saw you for a millisecond when you… got out of wherever you were. Are you… less… gruesome?” Janus looked quietly terrified, gripping his knees.

“Fuck, I’m sorry you saw that. I relieve stuff sometimes. It’s not… great,” Virgil hissed, and the box crackled. Virgil held up haun arms and looked around. “I’m good. I don’t see any blood,” Virgil sighed and stood up to go flop on the couch. “Thanks… did you sing that because I told you it was my favourite song?” Virgil asked curiously.

“I hoped whatever was happening was like disassociation and gave it a shot. Anything to comfort you before the whole house caught on fire from electrical malfunction,” Janus shook his head. Virgil exhaled a puff of icy air in a tiny wisp.

“Yeah, it was definitely a horror-movie in here,” Remus huffed, still looking uncharacteristically pale.

“I’m going to go start dinner. You’ll come help once you’re a little less shaken?” Logan asked Remus pointedly.

“Yeah, thanks,” Remus sighed and sat on the other side of Janus on the couch.

“Oh, you needed the kitchen because you can’t fit two people in yours?” Virgil chuckled, making the box released a staticky demonic noise that caused Janus to jump. “I can’t wait to watch you guys eat out of pans,” Virgil hummed smugly.

“Fuck, we broke all the plates!” Remus hissed.

“I thought of that!” Logan called from the kitchen.

“Damn,” Virgil grumbled. “It would have been funny. Did I make the news?” Virgil asked hopefully, looking over to Remus.

“Just social media. No news reports, weirdly enough. I sent you a link to some twitter posts. Someone got a photo of you going ape-shit with that stool,” Remus sighed contentedly and leaned back.

“You’re… safe, right? To be around, I mean,” Janus swallowed nervously.

“My friends think I am?” Virgil offered, not personally convinced. “Zi’s mom tried to come inside and since killing her is fucked up, I thought I’d fight capitalism until the longing for murder wore off,” Haun shrugged and spun the star. “I didn’t let her come inside so I was able to stay… me enough,” Haun added in explanation.

“Oh, grats,” Remus chuckled. “Though, Zi’s mom coming by is concerning,” He said with concern.

“If I’m careful, I won’t electrocute her. I’ll just keep throwing her until she gets the picture. Maybe destroy her car. As long as nobody who is not allowed doesn’t enter the house I can keep the poltermaddness at bay, I think,” Virgil pondered out loud. Well, also still feeling human and included, too. 

“Virgil, part of this recipe requires constant stirring. Would you be willing to do that?” Logan called from the kitchen.

“Oh, sure, just let me know,” Virgil replied. Must have been the other reason they wanted to do it here. Janus still looked concerned. “Seriously dude, all you have to do is throw salt at me to knock me back, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re a friend. You were kind enough to even give me the time of day at The Stockade… well, unless you were trying to steal me as a sub or something,” Virgil cackled and the box cracked with another sound that made Janus jump.

“No, I was just in a similar situation and didn’t want anyone else to hurt as I did. Though clearly… Well, you’re out now, I suppose,” Janus sounded depressed and Virgil groaned, making the box crack loudly again.

“Vi-Vi, don’t fry that box,” Remus said warningly. Virgil blinked and shook haunts head a few times.

“Sore subject,” Virgil replied and rubbed haunts face. “I’m great at tolerating shit and not lashing out until something real specific happens. If you’re not comfortable, you didn’t have to come to a literal poltergeist’s house,” Virgil rolled haunts eyes and picked up the remote for the sound system and switched it to play one of haunts less obtrusive playlists to play quietly in the background.

“I wanted to see you. Well, in a sense, anyway. Considering how disassociated you were, I’m surprised you remember me,” Janus’s words were somewhere in the strange land between sullen and bemused.

“I remember everything, it’s great,” Virgil deadpanned sarcastically, waving haunts hands to make a little arched rainbow in the air.

“I’m sure,” Janus sighed sarcastically, leaning back on the couch.

“Whatever. I thought you were handsome, you know. I wasn’t aware at the time what that feeling was. I’d probably be hot for your balls if I wasn’t dead,” Virgil cackled and Janus turned bright red. “Shame I didn’t meet you at that play party. Remus says you’re a good dude. You probably would have been a good dom,” Haun mused, tapping haunts foot in the air.

“You were a switch, buddy,” Remus reminded him.

“Oh, fuck, you’re right,” Virgil tossed the little star about. “I literally cannot even imagine myself domming someone,” Virgil wasn’t sure if that was a lament or just a mild statement since the box made more crispy noises.

“Wait, Virgil, you feel _love_ but not _sexual attraction_?” Logan called from the kitchen. “They are both chemical reactions,” He added.

“Oh, I think I’m just saddled with the feelings I died with,” Virgil sighed and electricity arched around the star. “Probably not the best topic. What weird kinky shit did Remus do this week?” Virgil changed the subject to the first bizarre thing that came to haunts head.

“I wanted to try climacophilia,” Remus said glibly, flipping his hand and looking annoyed.

“He tried to throw himself down the stairs to see if he got an erection!” Logan shot angrily and Virgil broke out laughing, causing the box to chatter and crackle with demonic mirth. Oh, that was a good subject to pick. Janus was laughing, too.

“How about you, Janus? Any weird kinks to distract me?” Virgil asked playfully.

“No, I-” Janus broke with another laugh. “I’m fairly vanilla after my bad relationship. I like the dynamic in the bedroom, but I mostly stay in the scene for the fashion and the people,” He explained, grinning at Remus. “Well, and it’s fun to just pin someone and toy with them or vice versa, too,” He added with a small shrug.

“It probably is. I don’t know about any new ghost kinks, but I’m pretty vanilla, too. I do still love the fashion, though. That black gothic goodness? Shame you can’t see what I’m wearing, then. I’m in a corset today. If I wasn’t wearing a hoodie, it’d show off the lacing, but I just have a deep longing for the hood up these days,” Virgil shrugged.

“Oh, I saved that photo from social media. I’ll show Jan,” Remus reached for his phone and started scrolling. “Here!” Remus announced and leaned over to show Janus. He inhaled sharply and his eyes widened.

“Ha, I’ve still got it even dead,” Virgil cackled and snapped finger guns at Janus.

“Spectrophilia! Kinky!” Remus barked with laughter.

“I didn’t say I wanted to fuck haunt, I just…” Janus trailed off. “… I have a very specific interest to people in corsets and kilts fighting capitalism?” Janus offered, and nobody bought it. “The high tops that go almost all the way up, too,” Janus hummed, taking Remus’s phone to look closer.

“I’m not wearing underwear, the traditional way. Just thigh-high fishnets,” Virgil wiggled haunts eyebrows at Janus, who turned red again and cleared his throat, handing back the phone quickly and diverting his eyes.

“I’ll send you that photo,” Remus winked, clicking on his phone.

“Remus, if you can afford to be so bemused in here you can come in and help with this ridiculous recipe you wanted to make,” Logan called from the kitchen, sounding annoyed. Remus cursed under his breath as he dutifully got up and headed to the kitchen.

“So, what do you want to do, Janus? I have awareness over the whole house, I can grab you anything you like,” Virgil asked, spinning the star in the air again.

“The entire house?” Janus arched an eyebrow.

“Yeah, being dead really did _that_ ,” Virgil snickered. “It’s just here, though, everywhere else is limited to what I can see,” Haun added pointedly.

“Can I see? I mean, could I have a drink?” Janus asked curiously while Virgil held the star between two fingers. Virgil dug around in the bag Logan brought mentally and found some plastic cups. Virgil used a metal ring from some packaging to grab one and dispensed some water from the fridge, floating it over and holding it in front of Janus for him to take while haun continued to fiddle with the star.

“So your body stayed on the couch, right? It could have been the inverse,” Janus hummed as he took the cup and sipped at the water.

“If you could call it a body, sure. There’s no corpus happening over here. Just some weird malignant blob of energy,” Virgil sighed, spinning the star and flopping haunts hands to the floor.

“It would be nice to see you,” Janus hummed. “It’s a shame you can’t control visibility,” He added, sliding the cup down on a table and Virgil slid a coaster under it.

“Yeah,” Virgil sighed despondently. “I just want to feel here with everyone. It’s really lonely,” Virgil admitted quietly, though the volume on the box was the same as regular speech.

“I imagine you spend more time with your friends than you did when you were alive,” Janus arched an eyebrow at Virgil. Haun sighed again with a frosty puff.

“I think this might be another feeling I died with,” The voice through the spirit box sounded hallow instead of slightly demented. “I’m always lonely in one way or another. I mean, I do sit around this house alone for hours. Humans have to sleep and work and stuff. I spook the dogs too much at Ream’s job and the others are too busy to actually spend time with me at theirs,” Virgil admitted sourly.

“I can’t guarantee I won’t get busy, but I have my own office and I don’t mind talking while I work,” Janus shrugged and sat back.

“Trying to get in on that hot, hot spectrophilia action?” Virgil teased Janus, and he turned red again. “I’m just playing, I don’t even know how ghosts have sex,”

“I can think of a few ways!” Remus shot from the kitchen and both Virgil and Janus groaned.

— ☠ —

“So, Remus forgot I was coming over, right? I knock at his door and he doesn’t answer. It’s like, okay, maybe he’s sleeping or out, I’ll just wait on the couch. I can’t just call Toby back to get a ride. So, I used the key to get into his apartment. And there he is, decked out in leather with some dude in a hood is hanging upside down in a sex swing while Remus is doing some kind of weird fucking interpretive dildo dance with his dick out. For a moment there I genuinely thought I was hallucinating, it was so fucking surreal,” Virgil cackled demonically through the little portable radio on Janus’s desk.

“I… have a morbid curiosity to see what fucking Remus would _actually_ be like,” Janus admitted, looking concerned. “It just seems like a completely bizarre experience,” He shook his head with a faraway look.

“I’m surprised you didn’t. You met him before he started dating Logan, right? He wasn’t exactly monogamous before then, he didn’t always fuck them, but there was usually a new dom or sub every week or so,” Virgil said flippantly through the radio.

“Did _you_?” Janus arched an eyebrow at the paperclips Virgil was shaping in his office.

“We talked about it? Not fucking, just bondage. We’re not attracted to each other, but he said he’d show me the literal ropes. I met Zillah soon after, though. Remus is cute and all, but I was more into suave guys and piercing eyes. He’s kind of a wild card personified, not really my type. I like Logan with Remus together, but I barely understand how they like each other,” Virgil shook haunts head.

“I suppose Remus is not exactly my type either. He’s a wizard with rope, though, he can do shibari that I can’t even comprehend. We started talking after he did a shibari demonstration. He stopped coming out to the club as much after he met Logan, so we mostly just texted after that,” Janus gave a small shrug and turned back to his computer. Virgil stole another paperclip for haun art creation. Haun didn’t realize metal sculpture could be so fun.

“Yeah, I didn’t see him as much either. I think they just stayed in fucking for a few months. That’s a pretty killer honeymoon phase. I think Logan might have mellowed him out a bit, too. He’s less jerky and feral than he used to be. Or maybe that’s just age,” Virgil twisted a paperclip into a spiral as haun spoke through the radio.

“I know I was more of a terror when I was younger,” Janus chuckled. “I was typecast into lots of villain roles when I did theatre for being a mischievously bastard with a good evil laugh,” Janus snickered and showed off his theatrical villain laugh, which Virgil had to admit was a good one.

“Doesn’t top a polterghost laugh, but it’s probably the best one I’ve ever heard from a human,” Virgil said blithely and Janus looked proud, holding his hand to his chest.

“Thank you,” Janus beamed.

“I need like another three paperclips, is that chill?” Virgil asked as haun bent the sculpture into place, breaking off a small piece of overlap.

“Take as many as you need,” Janus pulled another box out of his desk and slid it near the edge.

“Oh swe-” Virgil shook with electricity and haunt body roiled with searing plasma-like pain. “Fuck-fuck-fuc-”

“Virgil!” Janus shot and Virgil disappeared from the spot and reappeared where haun died. A clenching sensation gripped haunts entire being and haun writhed on the floor as someone entered the house.

Virgil hissed through every spirit box in the place. “Get out!” Haun screeched at the intruder, trying to grip hauntself before haun attacked with the tiny bit of sense left haun had. “Go!” Haun cried, pain pulsating through haun. The spirit boxes crackled and groaned with angry noises.

“You’re the one that has to go, I’m afraid. I don’t know how you’re talking so clearly, but I was hired to get you out,” The person said, wearing coveralls and looking confused. “You know, I thought this was another fake haunting, jeez,” They added quietly, looking around.

The lights started flashing on and off and Virgil tried haunts damndest to not just rip this person’s throat out. Virgil had thrown the intruder out of the house and slammed the door locked while haun gasped for air on the floor. Haun was in excruciating pain trying to keep hauntself whole and dropped down in relief. The buzzing didn’t go away, however. They still had the intent to come back in and Virgil knew haun couldn’t hold out any longer. Haun sent out an SOS text as haun vision flooded over with drifting lights and colors.

Virgil appeared on the lawn and slammed the van door shut, shoving the person against their van. Haun reappeared on the patio and blocked the doorway with crossed arms. The person recovered, rubbing their head, and picked up a bag, walking up the pathway to the door.

“Shit, you’re the real deal,” The person hummed and dug a weird satchel out of their bag. “Down,” They commanded in a deep voice and Virgil dropped into position automatically. Haun fought to get up or fight back but haunt head was overwhelmed with Zillah’s voice echoing in haunt memories and the strength of whatever was in that bag. “Unlock the door,” They commanded further, and the door unlocked as Virgil cried spectral tears locked in position zero. “I thought this was supposed to be hard after you threw me. You listen just fine,” They hummed and walked right through Virgil to head inside. The intense static pushed out Zillah’s voice and Virgil was finally able to fight the command and rise up, teleporting back inside.

The exorcist was dowsing around the house. Virgil tried to yank them back out the door as a growl emitted from haun, but every way haun reached out was knocked back. Virgil screamed out in frustration and instead grabbed the metal in the office chair and smashed the person across the torso with it, sending them flying into the wall with a scream of pain. They fished out the satchel again and Virgil recoiled briefly but fought the pain, yanking it out of their hands and flushing it down the toilet with a menacing glare.

“Get out of my house,” Virgil enunciated slowly and smashed them against the wall again, but was sent flying by salt. Virgil tumbled through the wall and into the kitchen with a demonic screech, rushing out again to attack.

“Shit-shit-shit,” They cursed hastily, dumping out a salt circle around them. Virgil pounded on it angrily, hearing the sound of the pressure echoing through the spirit boxes along with a demonic wailing howl. Haunts house. _Haunts house. Intruder._ ** _Haunts._**

“You want to live in hell with me? Fine!” Virgil screamed, trying to slam the couch at them, but it came to a dead stop every time haun tried to force it into them.

“Don’t you want to move on?” They asked calmly, and Virgil dropped down into position again, screaming in frustration. They lit some bundle of herbs and Virgil was crushed down by the smoke, but Virgil bore the force with a glare. “Don’t you want the pain to stop?”

“Pain means nothing to me,” Virgil hissed, putting out the herb bundle’s fire by swallowing it whole with haunts ghost telekinesis, searing haunt from within. Virgil was being crushed and smoked alive from the bundle inside haunt, still.

Virgil grabbed a broom and flicked at the edge of the salt ring while haun assaulted it with the couch. They tried to grab it to stop the broom, but Virgil just shook them as the salt ring broke. Virgil was trapped in position zero but that didn’t stop Virgil’s eyes boring a hole into their soul or another bash them upside the head with the broom. They threw something at Virgil again, incapacitating haun. Virgil closed haunt eyes and shove haunt senses all into a socket, blowing the breaker and seeing everything in bright color and waves of energy. Virgil reached out to the bastards energy and tainted it, forcing inky black blood to infect the energy.

The person started sweating and panting, moving slowly but managing to close the ring again, knocking Virgil back and sealing themself off. Virgil howled in frustration again, blowing the bulbs in the room with a small shower of sparks. Haun flung open a kitchen cabinet and pulled out a pot, filling it with water that roiled as soon as it touched the surface. Haun gripped the pot and flung the boiling water as the pot came to a dead stop from the salt ring and dropped to the floor. The damage was done, and the person screamed in pain from being splashed with boiling water, steam rising off their skin in the frosted room.

“Get. Out,” Virgil repeated, reverberating off the walls as haun was still trapped in position zero, claws digging into haunt legs as blood poured from all of haunts wounds.

The water cleared a small section in the salt and Virgil didn’t hesitate, pulling a knife out of the drawer in position and throwing it at the person, landing a cut in the arm. They fell over and screamed out again, and their blood smelled so good. Haun needed more. Haun has lost so much. Haun was _hungry, starving, salivating_. Another knife from the kitchen flew at their other arm.

“Virgil, stop!” Roman screamed out, slamming through the askew front door and sliding to his knees next to Virgil, grabbing on. Roman was so warm. Virgil didn’t know when haun was able to feel the temperature again. Virgil didn’t realize how cold haun was. How cold it was in here. Roman shivered, gripping tighter.

“Pay in blood,” Virgil groaned reaching at the knife with haunts thoughts again.

“Virgil, they’re not Zillah!” Roman insisted, gripping around Virgil’s shoulders tightly as haun was locked into position. Virgil stopped trying to get the knife and enjoyed the heat. “Come on, let’s go,” Roman tried to move Virgil, but Virgil was still locked in position zero.

“Its… it ate something it shouldn’t. You’re friends with this _thing_?” The person spat, slowly pulling themself up.

“Zillah,” Virgil breathed a frozen breath, looking at where haun stabbed the intruder in the arms. The same spots. Not as deep. They wouldn’t need stitches. Haun wanted them to need stitches, pouring deep crimson blood out for Virgil to revel in. More cuts. More blood. Virgil wailed again, wanting to sink his teeth into the intruder and open them up to spread the blood. Paint the room with his blood. Zillah could only repay Virgil in blood.

“Virgil’s only angry because you’re here!” Roman spat, tugging at Virgil’s arm again unsuccessfully. “What did haun eat?”

“Herbs for immobilizing. It shouldn’t have been… able to,” They gasped, pulling themself off the floor. “Thanks for stopping it from fucking killing me,” They spat angrily, rushing out of the door. “Have fun being murdered!” They called through the doorway and slammed it shut.

“Zi,” Virgil lamented, hot tears pouring down haunt frozen face, a puff of hot air rising in the frosted room. Roman tried pulling at Virgil again fruitlessly while Virgil stared ahead and at the small spill of blood on the floor. Roman pulled out his phone with one hand and clicked around, sending texts.

“What the fuck is aftercare?” Roman hissed at his phone and watched texts come in. “Um, you did a good job,” Roman said meekly, looking at his phone again. “I’ll be right back,” Roman pat Virgil’s back and got up, swiftly moving around the house. He chucked a blanket over Virgil’s back, wrapping his arm around Virgil’s shoulder again. “So, uh, how do you feel?”

“Everything,” Virgil whispered slowly. Haun felt everything so intensely haun couldn’t think.

“That, uh, okay. You feel like… everything. Did you… enjoy it?” Roman asked meekly, looking concerned.

“Yes,” Virgil stared at the blood that looked like it was vibrating on the floor. Haun saw Roman’s energy and it would be so easy to reach out and taint it. Virgil could take control. It rolled off in gentle waves and it was right there. Zillah would do it. Virgil could be better. Stronger. More capable. More Powerful.

“Did it make you feel bad?” Roman rubbed Virgil’s shoulder firmly. Virgil realized what haun was thinking of doing to haunts own fucking brother. Making him a puppet on a string. Just like Virgil was. Virgil never wanted anyone to feel like haun did.

“Yes,” Virgil crumpled into Roman, finally free of the position and crushed by a heavy weight.

“You’re heavy for something without a form,” Roman grunted. “How did you even eat it? Where did it go?” Roman pulled Virgil up closer.

“Don’t know,” Virgil sighed a breath of cold air. “Crushing down,” Virgil added, weakly hugging Roman back. “I could hurt you,” Haun lamented. “You should go,” Haun warned sullenly.

“You would never hurt me. You love me,” Roman shook his head in objection, hugging Virgil tighter.

“I love Zillah. And I stabbed him in the heart,” Virgil groaned as the weight of reality crushed down on haunt further. “How can you trust me?”

“Because deep down you’re not a monster,” Roman insisted, pulling off Virgil’s hood to pet haunts head. “And I think no matter how hard the universe tries to make you one, you’ll never fully give in. You’re stronger than all of that,” He said reassuringly, but Virgil had no idea how Roman could know that.

“I’m not,” Virgil shook haunts head, starting to sink through Roman’s chest. “No,” Virgil tried to fight it, but haun was out of energy and being pressed down out of the world. Haun couldn’t go.

Instead of fully disappearing, Virgil dropped to the ghost world. Seeing Zillah’s bloody corpse right next to haunt should have shook haunt more than it did, but haun was so tired. Virgil looked over to haunts body and saw the smoking bundle of herbs lying on haunts chest. Oh. Virgil couldn’t move things with ghostly force here. Haun slowly but surely made haunts way over to haunts body.

The herb bundle weighed so much it took all of hauntself to move it. Virgil grunted and struggled as haunts being shaken from the weight and proximity of the bundle. Once it was finally off the body of Virgil’s chest, it felt like nothing. Virgil placed it on Zillah’s chest instead, almost like a flower. The crushing pressure was finally lifted off of haunt.

The lack of energy and moving the bundle was too much for Virgil, though, and haun faded into nothingness. A kind of quiet contentment that haun didn’t deserve and that Virgil would fight tooth and nail to return back quickly from with haunts final thoughts.

— ☠ —

Virgil woke up gasping and sweating, haunts eyes flying open to Roman’s living room. Haun screamed out in pain through haunt teeth and held hauntself on the floor. Haun saw why waking up early was bad now. Haun reached out desperately for the tazers and shocked hauntself with both, dropping them to the floor and closing haunt eyes. Haun didn’t need air. Haun would be okay. Haun was already dead. Nothing could hurt haun anymore. Except for that one guy, maybe, but they couldn’t find haunt here. Though the idea of other people out there, being able to do that to Virgil terrified haunt.

“Um, is that you, Virge?” Patton asked timidly as he popped his head out of his room. “I don’t know if I imagined that or not,” He added, opening the door wider.

“Yeah,” Virgil replied through the spirit box and waved weakly. “Is Ro okay?” Virgil asked after a concerned beat.

“Oh, he’s alright kiddo. Just kind of spooked on how you disappeared on him. I think he’s still asleep,” Patton replied, stepping out into the living room proper.

“How long has it been?” Virgil asked and rubbed haunt face.

“Three days. Well, four, technically. It’s one in the morning,” Patton said softly.

“Fuck, I’m sorry for waking you up, Pat,” Virgil groaned. “Go back to bed,” Haun motioned with haunts hand to shoo Patton.

“It sorta sounded like you screamed, though. Are you okay? The way you left was kind of… terrifying? And I only heard about it,” Patton shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows at the ghost box.

“It’s fine. You need your sleep,” Virgil waved haunts hand. “See ya,”

“Virge, wait-” Patton started but Virgil just teleported back to haunts house. Haun didn’t need to disrupt their sleep any more than haun already did.

Virgil was pleased to see the salt, and blood cleaned up. Virgil’s office chair survived, too. The couch was… well; it wasn’t _fully_ broken, anyway. Someone cut it open to reinforce it and close the holes back up with fabric tape. Virgil checked the lights, and some bulbs were still blown, but it seemed like the breaker box was fixed. Haun recharged in one of the empty rooms and went to go flop down in haunts ghost bed.

Son of a bitch. All the ghost furniture was gone. It must disappear if haun blacks out. Virgil glared at the empty room. Haun wasn’t napping on the couch. Virgil made a big lush bed haun had to recharge for and ignored all the rest. Haun pulled hauntself under the sheets and sighed. Haun pretended they were soft and warm, but haun couldn’t feel anything again. Apparantly, the only time haun could feel was during fucking mental breakdowns. Unfair.

Haun wanted cake and haun wanted tea and haun wanted a fucking warm hug. Virgil felt so alone. Remus was onto something with that androids for ghosts thing if Virgil could put hauntself in it completely. At least haun wouldn’t have to wait until haun was contemplating murdering someone for crossing a house threshold to get a damned hug.

At least Virgil was so beyond angry haun had a weird sense of chill. Haun was still easy to anger, but haun was mostly… lonely. Feeling like there was no way out. No one to turn to. No one who loved haunt. A broken shell of a person whose first thought was ‘huh, ghosts are real’ and not the lament of haunt own passing. Haun knew haun wasn’t actually all alone with no one to help, intellectually. Haun just still… felt that way.

Virgil dropped down to the ghost world to recover and pass the time until haun didn’t have to be so alone. Haun dropped mid-air onto the floor. Shit, the ghost world has this fucking room. It wasn’t so upsetting with all of Zillah’s shit out of here. Well, haun could sleep in this version of the bed if haun just ignored the inky puddles and trails of blood. Well… ‘sleep’.

The room had a strange restless feel to it. There were tinges of vengeance, resignation, fear, hate, love… a whole spectrum of emotions floating around the room. They felt like memories. Maybe they were. Virgil hated the reminders, frankly, and didn’t want to spend all night trapped in some horrible memory. Or even worse, reliving haunts death and blowing out the bulbs they had just replaced.

Haun reached out to one of the trails of emotion and gripped it, tainting it into dark smoke. Haun didn’t feel the hate any more. Haun assumed this did something, though. Even the love and contentment hurt to think about. Haun tainted them all, leaving the room devoid of any human emotions. The dark smoke settled around the floor as if it were heavy. Virgil didn’t know if haun could… un-taint things. But it was just one room, and it was enough to settle back in the bed and rest, waiting for the next time haun didn’t have to be so alone.

— ☠ —

“I still don’t do caricatures,” Virgil huffed a frustrated frozen breath and glared at the person pouting at the easel standing in a corner of Moonlighter’s. “I do painting and graphic design. I don’t know _how_ to do them. Buy something else,” Haun clarified as the person crossed their arms angrily. Virgil glowered back and the spirit box crackled with annoyed, haunted whispers.

“Hey, what does the sign say?” Remy shot, pointing to a sign in front of the easel.

“I wasn’t being annoying,” They shook their head. Virgil put haunts hand on the box and displayed an angry emoji on a small screen.

“Don’t piss off the poltergeist,” Remy reminded them and they sighed, leaving. “You’d think some people would have a better _survival instinct_ ,” He rolled his eyes, adjusting the small space heater near Virgil to cancel out the ghostly chill.

“Says the guy who lets a fricking ghost paint in his coffee shop,” Virgil groaned, pointing at Remy with a paintbrush.

“Hey, I know _I’m_ safe. Making sure the _customers_ stay safe is the risky part. Paint yourself a sign that says ‘no caricatures’, I swear this is the third one today,” Remy huffed, leaning against the counter and looking at Virgil.

“I think people still assume you’re bamboozling them somehow,” Virgil chuckled and the box cracked dementedly.

“God, making sure the electrical was safe for you to be here was enough of a fucking event. Why can things never be easy?” Remy sighed, puffing up his bangs.

“That’s just what being me is like,” Virgil snickered. “Probably also owning a business,”

“Yeah, well, better than that bastard,” Remy shrugged dismissively. “Oh, somebody’s favourite customer is here,” Remy stage whispered. “Jan! Americano?” Remy called to Janus as he entered the room.

“Please and thank you,” Janus grinned at Remy and deposited himself in the chair they saved for Virgil’s family next to haunts painting space. Remy beamed smugly at Virgil and left to go make his drink. Janus pulled out his lunch and leaned back to look at what Virgil was working on. “Another commission?”

“Yeah, we had to stop accepting them,” Virgil beamed proudly. “I know it’s just the novelty, but I can’t help but be happy about it,” Haun blended the colours on the canvas.

“So I heard from the grapevine you like putting on trashy clothes and dancing. Have you ever considered putting on nice clothes and going somewhere classy? Roman agreed to let you possess him after he and Remy were done dancing so I could twirl you around,” Janus leaned on his arm towards Virgil. If Virgil was alive, haunts entire body would probably be red.

“So they’re going to let you seduce my brother for your spectrophilia kink?” Virgil teased, despite feeling incredibly flattered.

“Or Remy, if Roman gets too drunk on high-dollar wine. I offered to pay for their date and considering how you and Roman grew up, I assume he will not be easy on my wallet. They both support the ‘Virgil gets hugs’ agenda. I would have asked Remus and Logan, but I think Remus would have just spent the entire night making fun of us. I’d rather him get it out of his system first,” Janus shrugged and took a bite of what appeared to be roast duck, looking intensely at Virgil.

“Mr. Knight, are you trying to ask a ghost out on a date, or is this a friendly interaction in which I have the potential to get one of my brothers _very_ drunk?” Virgil arched an eyebrow at him.

“It’s a friendly interaction in which I might flirt with you, since I tend to be a flirty drunk,” Janus grinned playfully, looking kind of smug.

“Friendly flirting sounds fun. Just no saying anything unsavoury while I'm one of my brothers or I will shock you,” Virgil warned him emphatically.

“Sounds fun,” Janus grinned mischievously. Virgil glowered at Janus while crossing haunts arms. “I’m kidding,” Janus rolled his eyes and flipped his hand dismissively.

“If we’re doing rich people not-dates, I demand to go to _Disney World_ at some point. Me and Ro always wanted to go and I’m certainly not afraid of roller coasters anymore,” Virgil pointed at Janus with haunts paintbrush.

“If I’m not paying for the entire thing, that’s fine,” Janus shrugged. “I assume it won’t just be Roman and myself, anyway,” Janus went for another bite of his food.

“I mean, it’d be kind of fun to go with everyone,” Virgil admitted quietly. “Maybe in the fall right after the kids go back to school? For two days, but don’t stay in-park? And then we all just whine about being too old for it at my house the next day… And maybe I cook something nice while you guys suffer?” Haun suggested meekly.

“You certainly don’t have very specific plans already,” Janus snickered, raising an eyebrow at Virgil and regarding haunt curiously.

“I can relieve ghost memories, too, and it would be nice when I was feeling really lonely,” Virgil whispered, feeling particularly embarrassed.

“Can I pick what you wear?” Janus asked brightly.

“To… dance? Or to the theme park?” Virgil asked in confusion, furrowing haunts eyebrows.

“Both. Clearly you feel strongly about this. I’ll see what I can do,” Janus smiled at haunt.

“I’m down,” Remy winked at Virgil as he put Janus’s coffee down on the small table for him. “Love the military jacket look,” He shot finger guns and sat down in the chair across from Janus. “So for the dancing, I’m thinking a super shiny dress and those opera gloves. Just look like a million bucks,”

“How shiny? Like… satin or latex?” Virgil asked curiously.

“Latex?” Remy looked confused. Janus pulled out his phone and clicked around to show Remy. “Oh, damn, that is shiny. It doesn’t leave anything to the imagination, huh,” Remy blinked a few times. “Yeah, high-necked and long sleeves,” Remy nodded.

“I need to be able to _see_ it to put myself in it,” Virgil pointed out, returning to painting.

“I’ll find one. I think some delicate jewelry and a tiara, too,” Janus hummed.

“Like… a fetishy LoTR elf?” Virgil asked incredulously and then paused for a moment, thinking about it. “Actually, I’m extremely down for that. Fetish fae punk will be all the rage,” Virgil nodded and snickered to hauntself. “So, dark stockings and heels? Barefoot? Stripper shoes?” Virgil asked.

“No shoes with stockings,” Janus nodded. “And an anklet,” He added thoughtfully, looking at dresses while he ate.

“I think haun should change outfits a few times at the park. Maybe every time haun is visible. Keep ‘em guessing,” Remy looked amused, sipping at his own drink.

“It costs energy to switch clothes, I’m putting a limit at three. I can recharge a little at the park but I don’t want to pull too much energy and risk going off the ghost deep end,” Virgil shook haunts head.

“Oh, that’s fair. We’ll have to choose carefully, then,” Remy hummed, leaning forward and rubbing his chin.

“Is playing with my outfits all it took to convince you to go on vacation with me?” Virgil asked incredulously.

“No, it was that hopeful puppy-dog look you got. I’m sure all I have to do is say ‘do you have any idea how pitiful Virge looked?’ and there’s _no way_ anyone would say no to coming,” Remy grinned darkly and Virgil hissed through the box at him.

“Don’t you dare!” Virgil shot angrily, the ghost box crackling and distorting the sound.

“Oh no, your evil ghost image, whatever will we do?” Janus held his hand up to his forehead and mocked Virgil in a deadpan voice.

“I wonder if it would be dangerous to take Virge to a water ride?” Remy pondered curiously, sipping his coffee again. “Logan would probably know,” Virgil reached out for the box and made it displace a grimace at them.

“Read the sign!” Virgil shook the ‘don’t piss off the poltergeist’ sign as haun glared at them.

“You know, if we filled one of these full-body latex suits with some ball bearings or something and zipped haunt in, I think it would avoid shocking the water,” Janus suggested, flipping around his phone to show Remy.

“Ugh, that’d be the most horrific golem. Let’s _not_ and say we did,” Remy huffed, shaking his head.

“I think Remus would be offended if I didn’t buy one of these to try,” Janus hummed, glancing at Virgil.

“I am _claustrophobic_ , you asshole,” Virgil turned the box to face Janus more pointedly.

“Fine. I thought it would be okay if we simply left your head out,” Janus rolled his eyes and went back to looking at dresses.

“I don’t feel my body parts distinctly, I’d just be mostly trapped. I see how the escape hole might make sense to you, but I’m certain it wouldn’t work like that,” Virgil shook haunts head sourly.

“Ah, understandable. I’d never make you do anything you don’t want to do, Virgil, don’t worry,” Janus smiled reassuringly.

“Gay,” Remy snickered.

“Very. How about this one, Remy?” Janus showed Remy his phone screen.

“How the fuck did you find a hooded dress?” Remy raised his eyebrows and took the phone and Virgil’s interest was piqued right away, holding haunts gloves in place to go behind Remy to see.

“That one, that one!” Virgil shot through the box happily, putting on the hooded swing dress and opera gloves right away, but keeping the fishnets and boots from earlier. “I don’t care if you don’t like it, I’m wearing it and you can’t stop me,” Virgil spun behind Remy and reappeared back on haunts chair.

“I, uh, can’t argue with that. I have absolutely no defenses for you being excited, I think,” Remy laughed, grinning at Virgil in the chair.

“I have no defenses for you in that dress, holy shit,” Janus murmured.

“Suck it,” Virgil supplied excitedly. Haun was perfectly aware haun was being a spoiled brat and haun was having the fucking time of haunts life- well, death- doing it.

“Damn, Virge,” Anton leaned on the counter and wolf-whistled. Virgil made a confused expression at him.

“Dude,” Andy hissed. “Not cool,” He shook his head.

“Fine, sorry,” Anton sighed and dropped his head.

“Thanks,” Virgil smiled at Anton.

“I want a hood that big,” Andy said with jealousy and dragged Anton back over to the register.

“As long as my arms are covered and I have a hood, I’ll probably wear it,” Virgil shrugged, summoning a haunts old favourite drink here just to feel included.

“This jewelry, this tiara, and try to match some bracelets and an anklet to it,” Janus showed Virgil his phone. Virgil blinked at them a few times, trying to picture it before getting them on.

“Flirt with haunt a little to make haunt reappear, I want to see,” Remy smirked at Janus.

“Hey,” Virgil glowered at Remy.

“So, Virgil, this dinner party after the theme park thing. Is this something you want to do in general? I don’t mind pitching in for the ingredients… and a new set of dishes,” Janus offered airily with a small smile.

“Oh! Yes! I mean…” Virgil grunted angrily, fighting hauntself. “Fuck it, please? I want that,” Haun looked hopefully to Janus. “I already found the dishes, they’re ceramic but have some metal accents so I can move them. And some metal cups! They’re very gothic and classy,” Virgil rambled out excitedly. Janus and Remy just smiled smugly at Virgil, looking amused. “What!? It makes me feel useful and human!” Virgil groaned in objection at them.

“We’re not saying anything,” Remy said blithely with a shit-eating grin.

“You don’t have to, I see your dumb energy saying everything you want to,” Virgil sipped at haunts drink bitterly. “I know you guys don’t want to be there often, especially after what I did to my room…” Virgil trailed off.

“Yeah, that’s some spooky feeling shit, not going to lie. Roman threw up for god’s sake,” Remy shook his head. “I’m fine with visiting, V. I just don’t think I can _live_ there. I make enough money now that it’s not a big deal. You’ve got solar panels now, and we fixed the water issue so the rest of the house is okay,” Remy huffed and shook his head slowly before taking a sip.

“It’s what, 20% of the house? The other 80% is human, then. Not unlike you. I think having a ghost room isn’t that bad. The more time we spend there, the less… unpleasant it will be. More good vibes to overtake the bad ones,” Janus suggested, taking another bite.

“Yeah, that’s kind of what I was hoping for,” Virgil pushed haunts fingers together meekly. “Plus, you know, lonely,” Haun shrugged. The box distorted the words, and it sounded hollow.

“Aw, babe,” Remy cooed and pouted. “I’m sorry. Is hanging out here and painting helping?” He frowned.

“You don’t have to pity me,” Virgil hissed bitterly, the box crackling.

“There’s a difference between pity and concern, Virgil,” Janus reminded haunt with a soft smile.

“Fine. Whatever. It helps if I know someone. It’s kind of… overwhelming in here without one of you guys. There’s a lot of input for ghost senses, I guess. I like it, though. I also feel useful here. Sometimes ghost fans come to talk to me, and that’s really fun. I don’t like it when people try to insist I’m actually magnets or whatever, but that probably comes with the territory,” Virgil shrugged dismissively. Haun just had to remember to not to taint the people that came to pester haun.

“I’m a little worried about how you seem to… well, you’ve mentioned twice now you like to feel useful. Which is fine. But… you do know you don’t _have_ to be useful, right?” Janus asked, looking very concerned at his cup of coffee.

“I can relax. I play video games and read e-books and stuff,” Virgil mumbled.

“Hmm,” Janus pulled his lips tight.

“Haun cleaned our apartment again,” Remy pointed out. “Less work for me but…”

“Virgil. I can’t claim I know how ghosts work. But you mentioned you have the feelings you died with. I don’t suppose you died… thinking that if you were a better sub that none of this would have happened?” Janus asked carefully.

“ _Technically,_ my last thought was wondering if I’d wake back up after I whited out from getting my head cracked,” Virgil supplied, though Janus just raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay, so that thought may have crossed my mind. But the brutal revenge was _much_ more prominent,” Haun admitted with narrowed eyes. “I’m just… bored, okay? I’m available and I… fuck,” Virgil held haunts head. “I do feel like I need to,” Haunt ruffled haunts hair and adjusted the hood.

“Dude,” Remy deadpanned.

“It’s not like I have a choice,” Virgil grumbled, the box distorting haunts voice. “So what if I clean stuff and crave praise, like, what difference does it make?” Virgil shrugged, feeling empty and embittered. Haunts voice echoed hollowly out of the box.

“You’re still your own person, Virgil,” Janus frowned deeply, reaching out and giving up part way through.

“I’m not, though. I’m dead,” Virgil shook haunts head. “You can always tell me if you don’t like something I’m doing. Does it really matter if it’s not healthy? I don’t even know if I _can_ heal,” Virgil dropped the brush in the cup and put down the gloves with a frosted sigh. “I don’t think this is the safest subject for the coffee shop,”

“Yeah, please don’t blow out the power,” Remy grimaced.

“Right, sorry. Can we please talk about this some other time, then?”

“Sure, if it makes you feel better. But… I’m fine. It’s fine, okay? If I can keep feeling human, then I can keep my sanity. I like mundane stuff like that, anyway. Maybe it doesn’t come from the best place. But it makes me feel good and helpful things get done. Is that so bad?” Virgil pleaded weakly, staring down at haunts non-existent coffee.

“I… suppose not,” Janus sighed heavily. “Have you ever walked at the bottom of the lake?” He asked, looking to Virgil suppressing the emotion in his eyes, but Virgil saw the energy that betrayed how he felt.

“Huh?” Virgil looked up from the coffee.

“That sounds bitchin’,” Remy leaned back in the chair and sipped his drink.

“I… I think we all would feel better if you did something that was purely just for you every time you did something for us. See something cool. Practice flying. Maybe learn how to sculpt. You have an empty room to fill. We could help you procure things to redecorate the house. Do ghost things _and_ human things that make you feel capable _outside_ of serving others,” Janus asked, gripping his coffee cup and smiling reassuringly despite the sullen energy coming off of him.

“Seconded. I love the help, V, I appreciate it and I love having you around. And you’re a better cook than I could ever be, so like, I never want you to stop. But you treat your time as someone else’s and that would drive a human crazy eventually, too. I mean, you did snap. Do stuff for you. For your human part. We’ll help fill the gaps. Do some fun shit. Human Virgil deserves it,” Remy said pointedly and took a long sip of coffee, finishing the cup. Virgil stared at haunts hands, feeling unable to respond.

“We’re not here to give you orders. If you don’t want to, that’s fine. You’re right that it isn’t exactly the end of the world. We just want to see you happy… Quite literally, even, it’s the nicest way to get you to appear,” Janus’s tone raised to more playful and his mood lifted.

“Yeah, you deserve good shit, V. It’s all a balancing act, right? Just try it. Maybe it’ll balance you out more,” Remy shrugged, trying to look disaffected, but his energy betrayed the hopefulness.

“We should try to find a time for this _Disney World_ vacation,” Janus hummed, pulling out his phone. “When is Roman free from this show season?”

“It’s a three-day weekend, babe, he’d make time for _Disney World_ as long as he wasn’t actively performing. In early fall he won’t be. Getting Logan to come is the hard part,” Remy snickered lovingly.

“Remus is an extremely convincing individual when he wants to be. I think as long as there wasn’t an important project coming up Remus could convince him,” Janus said confidently. If I get a hotel early, it should save on costs. How do we want to split it?” Janus asked distractedly.

“Hm, I think we should just start a text chain and ask how much we have to work with. We’re old-old people at this point, standing around is stupid. I want to get that line-skipping service. Also, we need to eat food at a restaurant, not a stand,” Remy said firmly. It felt like it took a moment to shake off the tone of voice.

“It’s… weird to hear you say stuff like that,” Virgil laughed weakly, looking slowly up to Remy from haunts hands.

“Hey, I’m an adult and a small business owner,” Remy huffed and stuck out his tongue at Virgil. “Shit, I still haven’t found someone to promote to manager to cover my ass when I’m gone,” Remy hissed, looking around.

“Andy showed management potential a few minutes ago,” Janus said quietly, glancing over to the counter.

“Andy would _hate_ being a manager, though. He doesn’t like high-stress stuff,” Remy shook his head. “I suppose there’s some time for someone to apply or want to step up. I’ll ask Andy if he’d be willing for the three days if nothing else,” Remy pulled out his phone.

“Can… we also go to _Universal_ sometime?” Virgil asked quietly, looking back down at haunts coffee.

“Fuck yeah we can, babe,” Remy grinned at haunt. “Maybe we should do a beach day before summer’s over,” Remy suggested, tapping his foot.

“Remus thinks ‘beach day’ means ‘get faced as fast as possible’,” Virgil warned Remy.

“Well, then, free entertainment,” Janus smirked evilly. “Virgil can just walk his drunk ass back to the car if he passes out,” He said cheerily.

“I mean, filthy sand was the whole reason I didn’t like the beach, it’ll probably be much nicer now that it won’t affect me. Can someone get me a dragon kite for the beach?” Virgil asked.

“I’ll get you a kite. Can we also pick a beach outfit?” Janus asked, sounding very interested.

“I demand a cape if we’re going to the beach, and I’m not wearing a speedo,” Virgil laughed, starting to feel better.

“Wind won’t affect your cape, right?” Remy furrowed his eyebrows.

“Exactly,” Virgil pointed at Remy with haunts coffee. “I might also make a scythe,”

“Ah, yes, a grim reaper in a bustier cackling and running across the sand while playing with a kite. Very threatening,” Janus snarked playfully.

“Hey, it’s how to make a beach trip interesting for everyone involved,” Virgil said airily, trying not to feel embarrassed about the idea of being caught having fun. “A bustier, huh?” Haun added, teasing him back.

“Virgil, how do you feel about the vampire aesthetic?” Janus said temptingly, leaning on his arm towards Virgil.

“Oh, fuck yes. I thought you were thinking about Prince Jareth from _The Labyrinth_ ,” Virgil hissed in delight.

“It can be two things. What baby gay didn’t get a crush on David Bowie, honestly?” Janus said flippantly. “I assume you wouldn’t wear a bright shirt, so it’d be a vamp-ier version. Not that colours show up on you,” Janus smiled genuinely, leaning back in his seat again.

“Oh, I’m still so gay for Jareth. I hoped daddy goblin king would abduct me when I first saw that. I’d be his bride in a ridiculously poofy 80s wedding dress any day,” Remy laughed brightly.

“Well, unlike David Bowie, I _can_ actually contact juggle and will not stuff an entire teddy bear down my pants,” Virgil snickered.

“You can contact juggle?” Remy looked baffled. “And you never told me?” He added accusingly, faux-offendedly holding his hand to his chest.

“It never came up! I learned some weird stuff when I was bored. I had to get permission to watch TV and stuff and it was like five bucks to buy one at the pharmacy,” Virgil replied a little defensively, unable to fight the gut reaction.

“Yeah, well, you’ll have to show me sometime, and I’m holding you to that,” Remy pointed at Virgil with a mischievous grin. Virgil settled down and smiled at Remy.

“What, and steal you away from my brother with my magical Jareth powers?” Virgil snickered.

“If he wanted to keep me, he would have put on dance pants and learned how to contact juggle,” Remy crossed his arms and nodded.

“Oh, I’m not going down without a fight, Remy. I would never pass up on a chance at the goblin king,” Janus smirked, brandishing his fork at Remy.

“It’s nice to know everyone is hot for my balls,” Virgil cackled behind haunts hand, staticky and sharp through the spirit box. They both stared at each other for a moment before slowly turning to Virgil.

“You did _not_ just make a pun,” Remy deadpanned, staring for a little longer. An evil smile slowly spread on his face and he looked down to his phone. “I’m telling Pat,” Remy sang delightedly.

“Shit, no!” Virgil shot, pulling Remy’s phone out of his hands.

“You’re not getting away with it, he’s going to know either way. I live with him!” Remy snickered and kicked his feet buoyantly.

“Technically, it was a double entendre,” Virgil pointed out weakly.

“Wordplay is wordplay, bitch,” Remy shrugged, still beaming brightly.

“I will never live this down,” Virgil groaned, giving Remy back his phone and flopping back on the chair.

“Good thing you’re dead, then,” Janus smirked, crossing his legs primly.

“Janus! Coming in clutch with the ghost jokes!” Virgil burst out with laughter, the box making it strange and echoed. “Great, tell Patton he has competition,” Virgil motioned to Remy with an evil grin.

“Don’t wrap me up in this!” Janus looked to Virgil with wide eyes.

“Too late!” Remy grinned, showing his phone screen with multiple texts of emojis from Patton already pouring in.

**Author's Note:**

> How did you feel about ghost au polternonsense? Was it out of hand? Of course it was out of hand. I have never written a single thing that was in hand in my life. I accept screaming, <3s, comments, memes, and keysmashes below. 
> 
> [Story Discord Server](https://discord.gg/ThcDBSP)
> 
> **♪[Break Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/17jdndRy9Q7F6COOvHieTM?si=o6VI7pQ3TbOsZKRADvGNQw) ♪**
> 
> While the entire work wasn't written to [A Million Pieces - Bastille (feat. The Chamber Orchestra Of London)](https://soundcloud.com/bastilleuk/million-pieces-feat-the), a hunk was. It's traditional it be included even if the bulk of it was written to the Break playlist.


End file.
